


Next Door Neighbour

by Tsuukai



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Aomine Daiki is a Father, Aomine Has Little Minions, Fireman Kagami, Gen, Minor Aomine Daiki/Kagami Taiga, Policeman Aomine, Supposedly Family Humour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-17 01:11:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2291468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuukai/pseuds/Tsuukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taiga should have moved out two years ago. Now there’s no way he can run.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bento

**Author's Note:**

> Father!Aomine. Where the Author fails at family humour. There probably are many errors (like continuity). I’m pumped with drugs to keep my cold away. ;_;

 

Taiga covers his face, hoping to God that his head would either burst open with all the noise or that someone would  _shut those fucking brats up before I shove something down their throats!!_

“Tomo! Retsu!” The roar of the names being called one after another hardly made things better, “Stop bothering your sister!!”

Taiga almost wants to go up to their door and inform the loud family that it was the girl, Haya, that was the troublemaker.

“But, Dad! Haya pulled down the cord! There’s water everywhere!” Taiga is sure this was the younger brother, Retsu, who, out of all the three, was his favourite; he cowered and moved aside, and refused to enter the elevator when Taiga came around, so the kid was pretty neat.

“Retsu! Stop lying! Don’t bully your little sister!” His neighbour kept yelling, thudding around the apartment next door, and making more racquet than he has in the past week. Blearily, Taiga glances at the wall clock, willing the minute hand to move faster to the big six and then there would be peace. The voices zoned out as his eyes drowsily blinked shut, remaining close in blissfulness.

“Tōchan!!!” was the next bloody murder screams that had Taiga jump out of his bed, adrenaline pumping his veins, ready for the fight. “Tōchan!!!”

“What happened—no!! Haya, who did this?!” the father roared, probably turning to glare at the two innocent boys who had nothing to do with whatever had just happened. That girl, Haya, was a force to be reckoned with. “Who threw her bento down?!”

“Not me!” Retsu was quick to deny.

Taiga could not hear Tomo, the quietest of the family, and honestly, the one besides Haya he could not deal with. Taiga had yet to really meet their father—he’s had various, unwarranted episodes with the children, that he was debating to move every day—but he guesses that Tomo follows after the currently heavily growling man.

“Shaa,” the man lets out, and Taiga relaxes.  _Spilled bentō, huh? Too bad. Guess it’ll just be some bread from the cafeteria this time._  “Just for that, Retsu, hand over your lunch to Haya, and you can reflect on what you’ve done.”

“What?! But I didn’t do anything!! She tripped all by herself!” while he was right, the grating treble of his voice made Taiga want to crawl back into his bed and throw his covers over his head. All he wanted was sleep; was that too much to ask for?

“Tomo, don’t take up for Retsu. We can’t keep coddling him. Think about what your mother would say!”

 _She would say, ‘You blind man, stop being played by your six year old daughter’_ , Taiga glared at the wall.

“Now come on, we’re leaving in five.” Whatever Retsu tried to say after this, fell on deaf ears—or maybe their father was deaf, because Taiga could hear every whining plea that  _I won’t survive today without food, tōchan! C’mon at least ¥500 for a melon bread!!_  and for some reason, he found himself heading to his own kitchen and staring blankly.

Taiga sighs, “What am I getting myself into?”

* * *

 

Daiki ushers the hellions out of the door, Tomo leading the march, with Haya close behind and Retsu slacking from focusing more on his pouting form than anything. The bag trotting his outdoor basketball repetitively hits the little thigh, but Retsu looks unconcerned, still glancing back over his shoulder in silent pleading. Daiki would have almost given in if it was not Retsu third strike of the day, and it had hardly started out for the Aomine family. Child rearing was so difficult, he sometimes wonders how he managed to raise them by himself (not including Satsuki’s coddling here and there, and the few—read: many—times his mother had to travel and be their nurse when sick).

Child care was a full time job  _and_  he had to worry about his rising police career, that surprisingly for the number of times he had to play hooky for his kids, he was steadily going up the ladder. Soon, he would hit the block known at the Detective’s Exam, and he is already wondering if he should surge forward and get it, only because it pays better. The downside, of course, would be the fact that he would hardly be at home and the possibility that he would be in constant exposure to danger. Either way was a tough choice.

Daiki watches as Tomo, the eldest child at thirteen, has already reached the elevator, holding onto Haya’s backpack to keep her in place. He frowned at the treatment, wondering for the umpteenth time that his boys teased and bullied the little girl too often for it to be healthy. He lengthens his stride to reach them first, outdoing Retsu in arriving to them.

Behind him, completely out of his concern, a door opens. He is too distracted to realise his neighbour, a man he has only seen on occasion lumbering like the dead back to his apartment, hardly catching eyes as they walked past each other. All he knows is the name on the plaque, that read Kagami Taiga.  _Or was it Daiga? Like, who names their children ‘Taiga’ for Kami-sama’s sake?!_

Retsu, on the other hand, is completely frozen in shock when to his side, the neighbour’s door opens up and the blearily large towering redhead with a scowl a hundred times scarier than his father’s is looking at him, red eyes dark and narrowed. “Here,” the man says, making Retsu jump, holding the straps of his black backpack tighter, teeth on edge and shivering. The man is holding out a  _furoshiki_  that is neatly wrapped  _yotsu musubi_  style, the colourful prints on the cloth so out of place with its owner that it was probably the reason Retsu reached forward for the package.

“Um…” he did not know what to say.  _What should I do with this?!_

The man growled out a low, “You could say thank you and eat all of it. Wash it before you return it.” And saying so, the man turned, letting the door close after him to lock automatically.

Retsu stared, blinking after him. “Huh?”

* * *

 

Daiki notices the  _furoshiki_  package immediately—no one but Tomo knew how to wrap it neatly, and Daiki had no time for that shit—but does not get to ask about its sudden appearance until later thatevening. In the meantime, though, he spends his time fussing and checking, and making all three children know exactly how mad he would be if they get into trouble at school for the rest of the week.

“I have to be at work without fail for the whole week,” he says, “You understand?” and the three, without fail, always nod. He knows they do it out of necessity not because they will follow what he has asked, but it appeases him enough to let them all out of the elevator and down the street, the bus nearing the stop for Haya. Tomo stands in line with the rest of the elderly women with their own kindergarten children, and one lone man who looks too at peace standing there, the visor of the baseball cap he wore askew creating a weird shadow at the side, smirking at the energetic boy who is trying to disrobe him with his exclamations of “We’ll play catch when I come back, right?!”

“’Morning,” Daiki mumbles to the bespectacled man who sends him a wry smile when he takes in the rushed appearance of Daiki.

“Hurrying as usual, Aomine-san?”

Daiki glared at the amused tone, turning to ignore the quip, watching as Tomo helped his sister up. Retsu was pouting at Haya’s back, but did not say any rude things to her yet, so Daiki glanced back at the other man. “Not as much as usual.”

“Is that so?” One hand was already directing the bounding young boy to the bus, scolding him only when he tripped on his face because he was not watching where he went. “Ei-chan, don’t forget to bring back your P.E. clothes, or no catch.”

“Hai, Shachou!” the little boy saluted, causing everyone in the vicinity to chuckle in supressed mirth while the father coloured.

“Just go and sit quickly!”

Tomo, at his now, was quietly chatting with Retsu, and Daiki took in how the newly turned teenager patted his younger brother’s head. “I wish you were nice to Haya like that,” Daiki mumbled, tugging at their bags to get them to move along. “I don’t know why you guys are so mean to her.”

The looks the boys gave him screamed on the level of ‘ _she had cooties_ ’; Daiki laughed at their naivety.

* * *

 

When lunch rolled around, Retsu pulled out the ominous colourful  _furoshiki_  that the equally ominous neighbour had given him that morning. While his classmates pulled desks together to enjoy their meal, today, Retsu remained seated, apprehensive for an eleven year old, sweating with nervousness and anticipation.

Questions like ‘ _why did he give this to me?’_  and ‘ _Does he hate me so much that he’s trying to poison me?!’_ and ‘ _I wonder what he put in…’_  filled his little head. Breathing in deeply, preparing himself, he pulls at the knots and unties the cloth, and when the bland looking box appeared, the tension increased a hundred fold.

“This is it,” he mumbled to himself. Shaking dark skinned hands, so like the colour of his father, pushed the lid of the box to one side. Retsu leaned closer, holding his breath, and was surprised to see the absolutely _normal_  spread of rice to one side with bonito flakes randomly spread on top,  _kaarage_  pieces to one corner, two cocktail sausages that were in octopus-style, some green stalks that looked like warheads covered in a strip of some meat, and one lone chocolate wrapped in its shiny foil.

He blinked again.

With shaking hands, he picked up the  _kaarage_ , slowly bringing it to his mouth, chewed it like he was afraid he was going to swallow glass, and had an epiphany.

“So good~!” Clapping his hands together, Retsu mangled his grace, and dug in.

* * *

 

Taiga craned his neck back as he took in a deep breath of fresh laundry. A pleased smile filtered through, and at once, the past 48 hours of back-to-back work at the Firehouse disappeared at the unfolding of his back muscles. His shoulders too, tight and drawn back, were feeling light and supple, and he wants to do some stretches to warm up and head over to the street court two blocks away for the utmost blissful ending to his day off. He would drop by the groceries and pick up some more food to stock up, and then cook.

Taiga had his day planned perfectly.

So it was to say, when the doorbell rang, that he was a little confused. He could press the intercom and check who it was, but the chances of it being anyone besides the landlord was so low, Taiga could have been the only tenant in the building.

Which was his second mistake of the day.

The first, he thinks on opening the door, was giving the little brat Retsu food in the morning. His third and fourth were soon to follow, and by then, Kagami Taiga had made more mistakes in a span of a few hours, than he has ever made in his thirty-five years of living.

“You,” was all that he could say to the beaming countenance holding up the messily re-wrapped  _furoshiki_.

“I washed it!” Retsu exclaimed. “Thank you for the meal!” He continues, “It was very delicious!”

Taiga nods, throat constricted, because despite working as a fireman for so many years, he still cannot talk to children without the fear of trampling them or worried that he would unintentionally make them cry, because  _how exactly do you stop them from crying?!_

Retsu remains at the threshold, and tired of being stretched out to keep the door opened, Taiga sighs and asks, “What do you want?”

Retsu shakes his head, the little dark skinned boy still smiling. His beautiful brown eyes blink up at Taiga and he draws back in confusion.

“Teach me how to cook?”

And Taiga slams the door shut.

* * *

 

Daiki arrives home to an abject quietness that is unheard of in his household. He has a hand to his waist, only to realise he has no gun on his person, and that makes him even more frightened.

“Tomo?” He calls out, because the boy should be at home, with his siblings, but if he needs to be quiet, he needs to call out to the most logical one.

“Welcome back,” a disembodied voice greets him before Tomo appears, face set at a frown. “How was work?”

Diaki ignores the question, eyes darting around. “What’s happening? Why’s it so quiet?”

Amused, Tomo jerks his thumb into the house. “I don’t know, Retsu seems to be sad, and Haya thinks it’s her fault for taking his food in the morning.”

Daiki sighed, shoulders drooping. “He’s freaking six. Why’s he so melodramatic?!” Daiki heads on to get the boy’s mood straight, Tomo following.

“I don’t think it has anything to do with Haya,” Tomo glances at the  _furoshiki_  Daiki remembers seeing in the morning, and while he frowns at the recall, he is more concerned by the brooding eleven year old sitting at the dining table doing his homework, for once not sleeping on it and drooling. Haya too, sits quietly adjacent to him, drawing with jerky motions, occasionally glancing up at her brother with a worried furrow of tiny eyebrows.

“Retsu?” Daiki calls him.

Retsu lifts his head, a little widening of his eyes to show he was surprised his father came without him realising it, and it takes Daiki a few heartbeats to calm himself from running up to his son, gather him in his arms and tell him that he was forgiven for whatever it was that had happened. However, before he can push that aside and take on a domineering parental reprimanding stance, Retsu flies off his seat and into his arms.

Confused, Daiki hugs the boy into his stomach, staring at dark blue hair. “Retsu?”  _Is this a new form of apologising?_

Retsu mumbles into his stomach, a weird fluttery feeling filling him, and Daiki has to cajole him into repeating it clearly. “Am I a bad person?”

Daiki blinked. “Hah?”

“Is that why people hate me?”

“I don’t know who told you that, but they’re wrong,”  _and fucking dead when I get my hands on them!_

Retsu only tightens his hold around his waist.

“Retsu, talk to me buddy,” he says, forcing the boy to leave him as he comes to his eyelevel. Brown eyes that are already red and watering, cheeks wet from the instant flood of tears that are coming out for such tiny tear ducts, and Daiki is confused as to what to do. “Who said that to you, Retsu-chan?”

Retsu remained tight-lipped, now looking scared to say anything more, but clearly wanting to. He knew how Daiki got when he was mad, and he knew that he was slightly at fault for what he was about to say.

“I’m not going to get mad,” Daiki haggled, knowing it was one surefire way to get anyone one of them to talk. Tomo behind him snorted—teenagers—and Retsu sniffled.

“Kagami-san doesn’t like me,” Retsu said, voice small, rubbing his face from all the tears and snot flowing, “He slammed the door on my face.”

Daiki drew back.  _What?_  “Why…would he slam the door in your face? Why were you even at his place?” For the two years they lived next to each other, Daiki does not even remember introducing himself to the other man, evoking the distant memory of him trying but failing, and it was probably what caused such a rift between them. That and the fact that Daiki had other things to worry about than neighbours who were hardly around.  _Must be a host_.

“I went to return the  _bentō_  and asked him to teach me to cook,” Daiki raised his eyebrows, “but he didn’t even take the box back and he didn’t even listen to my request.”

Daiki, raging mad now at the complete insensitiveness of the other male, grabbed the boy by his shoulders and said, “Let’s go show him, Retsu, not to mess with us Aomines!” On pass, Tomo handed the neatly wrapped  _furoshiki bentō_  and Retsu flew along with him as he headed out, hardly bothering to keep the door ajar to not be locked out, before he is already banging on the second door of their floor.

It is only after a few moments that the door pushes out, and a confused redhead stares out at the gathering Aomine family—Haya had run out before the door closed, leaving Tomo to grab a set of keys and head on after the troublesome thing—and soon, Taiga was with a varying facial expressed family of four.

“Yes?” Is the default reaction that gets Daiki mad enough to show a red flush to his skin. The accompanying red eyebrow to pops up makes him feel like the other is mocking him, but the eyes quickly dart down his chest. It is then that Daiki realises something; Kagami Taiga was shaking.

“…are you okay?”

A pointed finger is raised, and a whispered, “Is he okay? He’s oozing tears!”

Daiki glances down at Retsu,  _yes he is_ , and then back up. “Yea, you did this to him.”

“What?!” Taiga roars, because under no circumstances had he even touched the boy. All he did was—Taiga had an ‘ah-ha’ moment. “You mean that?! He accosted me!”

‘“What?!”’ This was echoed by the father-son complex, whom at the moment, looked alike in their fighting-stance. “When?!”

Daiki knew that Retsu was not a perfect son. He was adorable when he needed to be, but he was also as naughty as they came. Added to that, the little child  _accosting_  a man as huge as Kagami Taiga, was unheard of. He likes to think his children got their awesome genes from him, but even that was a little too far-fetched.

“You know,” Taiga vaguely moved his hand, “when he came by earlier. All expecting and, I don’t know, giving me that look, right there!” Taiga points when the awed look returns on Retsu’s face. Daiki bends over to see.

“You’re kidding me, right?” He asks, slowly looking up to glare at the idiot cowering from a child that would hardly come up to his chest, and was probably one-sixteenth of his size. “That’s not accosting. That’s the puppy-dog look. When he’s asking for something. Like your help.”

Taiga spluttered. “That’s even worse! And why should I help him?! We’re strangers!! You should be teaching your son to not walk up to strangers, you asshole!” As if realising what he said, a large hand smacked across his mouth, and red eyes lightened and widened.

Daiki tried to hold onto his laugh.

“Tōchan’s name is Daiki!” Haya inserted from his knee. One hand patted her head, proud of the little fighter, but she was just adding more horror to the redhead’s face.

 _Oh please just go away,_  Taiga was hoping the elder Aomine understood the signals, but the man who looked suspiciously too happy to be standing at his threshold, surrounded by minors like a shield, was looking him straight in the eye.

“How are you a stranger?”

Removing his hand to place it on his hip, Taiga growled. “Your son has no common sense whatsoever. He even took food from me in the morning without even questioning it!”

“Oh, right,” Daiki handed over the package. “Thanks for that.”

Subdued for a second at the change of pace, Taiga bowed his head, “Oh, it was no problem, just something quick—or not!” He snapped, grabbing the  _furoshiki_  more forcefully out of the dark skinned male’s hands. At this point, Daiki did bubble out a laugh. Darting quickly to the others, only Tomo had the decency to cover his mouth and look away.

Retsu, however, was beaming. Again. “Ne, ne, Kagami-san!” Taiga wearily looked at the boy. “You’re cooking was amazing!”

Wanting to stamp out these emotions he could not deal with, Taiga questioned, “How do you know it was me? It could have been my girlfriend.”

Retsu had the gall for an eleven year old to scoff at Taiga. If the boy’s father was not sending him strong waves of ‘ _You try to touch him and see_ ’, Taiga would have been dangling Retsu by his flimsy t-shirt collar.

“Hey, bra-er, Retsu…kun,” Taiga flickered his eyes from Daiki to Retsu, “You should be careful of what you assume.”

“Yea, Retsu,” Daiki added, mouth easily shifting into a smirk, “Not all men are popular like your father.”

“Tōchan is handsome! I’m going to marry Tōchan when I grow up!” Haya enthused, unaware of the glare she was receiving. “Tōchan’s too cool!”

“Oh my Haya-chan knows her men!” Daiki cooed, completely ignoring everyone around him as he picked the girl up and cuddled her.

Taiga, unimpressed, gorund out, “Hey, you stupid father, are you done? Can I leave now?”

Daiki glared at him for his interruption. “Well, you haven’t really apologised and you haven’t really listened to Retsu’s demands.”

“What?! And again,  _why should I?!_ ” Taiga demanded right back. Then suddenly, he stiffens, turning his head back, and says, “Wait, I’ve got something on the stove.” He leaves the Aomine family outside his apartment, door politely ajar, and heads to his kitchen. It is near bliss he feels when four pairs of eyes are not on him.

“Sorry for intruding!” comes a chorus from behind him.

Swirling in both fright and rage, Taiga is at his wits end. “What are you doing inside?! I didn’t invite you!”

“But it smells nice,” Retsu says, leaning forward and smelling the air like a little animal. Taiga takes a step back.

“Yea, and because of you, I can’t make dinner in fifteen minutes so that Haya can go to bed at eight.”

“Haya-chan has to have a bath, too, ne, Tōchan!” Haya squeels when Daiki picks her up and twirls her in the air.

“That’s right, Haya-chan has to have a bath too! Maybe Kagami-san would be so kind as to hurry up and feed us, right, when he’s taken so much of our time, and even made Retsu-nii cry.”

Haya curls up, lips trembling. “Kaga-chan made Retsu-nii cry,” she echoes.

Taiga sputters.

“And I’ve got homework to finish and chores left to do,” Tomo says, coming closer. “I’ll help set the table. Where are your plates and utensils?”

Taiga despairs, almost breaking down at the combined attacks from all four Aomines.

“Can I help in the kitchen?!” Retsu pipes up, eager all over again.

Taiga wails, “Who said I was feeding any of you guys?!”

* * *

 

If Taiga had to recall exactly when he made the first, biggest mistake in his life, it would have been that day when he refused to get off the bed after a long shift, at hearing the deep voice call out, “Kagami-san, we’re your new neighbours, Aomine Daiki. We’re just dropping by to greet you!”

If he had, he would have known to stay  _completely_  away from that family, and maybe not renew his tenancy contract, and not have spent the next two years consecutively suffering a migraine he did not need to, and then the next couple of months dancing to the tune of the Aomines and their sadistic mind controlling waves.

As it was, he is now fending off being the new attraction to one whimsical six-year old, the mentor to the child that does not fear burning his eyebrows off, the awkward solicitor in keeping Daiki off his teenage ass, and then the biggest job out of them: to be the target of all of Daiki’s frustrations.

But that, was a story for another time.

 

* * *

 

 **Author’s End Notes:**  This was supposed to be  _a very short piece_  where Taiga helps out the kid, and Daiki ends up taking cooking lessons from him, but things never pan out the way we want them to.

Now for the names, for those interested! :D

Tomo, as everyone should know by now, is “friend”. Or it’s one reading of just the sound. However, I was thinking of the kanji that means “similar”. I don’t know why, though, so excuse me.

In one of Aomine’s songs ‘ _Netsu no Kakera’_ , Netsu means passion or some such thing (I’m not hundred per cent, and it’s been a while, and my internet was down by the time I finished this, so yea… _you may correct me if I’m wrong!_ ) and Retsu can mean passionate or ardent, whichever floats your boat.

Haya has many meanings, but I was concentrating more on the “light” meaning (weight-wise).

 

Besides all that, I hope you enjoyed this!! X)


	2. Key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   
> **Before he can dissuade any more interruptions to his quiet life, Taiga stares at the threat his kind faces. Secretly, he wonders if the Aomine family came from a tribe of hunters.**

**Warning(s):** Some sad things, some mad things. Father!Aomine. FeelingAttackedNow!Kagami.

* * *

 

 

Daiki watches, fascinated, as Tomo runs the distance it would require a person to realise they had thoroughly embarrassed themselves, only to stop short to yell out: “You left your daughter at the park, stupid _Oyaji!!_ ”

And then feels unwarrantedly annoyed that his genes are running rampant in Tomo as well; at least before he could blame it on his deceased wife, but it was apparent to everyone who knew him that his exclamations were not true.

Even their neighbour, Kagami Taiga, angrily keeping a set pace as he walked towards him with Haya skipping jauntily at his side, knew that.

“…Thanks,” he remembers to say first—Kagami was surprisingly a stickler for these things—before he bent down to pick Haya up. The girl made a fuss, whined and pushed at him, and grumpily settled on his shoulder when he ignored her. “Sorry about that.”

“It took you long enough,” Kagami says to him, and walks past the father-daughter pair to the apartment complex a few meters away, Tomo not in sight.

“Kaga-chan!” Haya calls out. “Kaga-chan!”

“Hey! Stop calling me that!” The redhead snaps but still turns around to face the little girl. Daiki has to look away before he is caught laughing. “What is it, br—Haya-chan?”

“What’s for dinner?!”

He smacks his hand on his face, groaning.

This time, Daiki does laugh out loud.

* * *

 

Retsu greets them as they walk out of the elevator, smiles and all, only Taiga is surprised when the preteen rushes at him and glomps him. There is no other emotion than panic in Taiga’s mind, and his arms flail widely as Daiki walks past them, absent-mindedly returning the greeting the boy threw at large, patting at the fluffy dark hair. Taiga shivers in the embrace.

“Are you feeling cold?” Retsu asks innocently, looking up with wide brown eyes.

Taiga tries to ignore it, escape the stare with all that he is worth, but just one glance down and he drowns into the deep pools.

“Ne, ne, Kagami-san.”

Taiga tries to swallow the frightened ‘eep’ that is rising up, but Retsu is already grinning widely.

“Can we make _gyoza_ for dinner?!”

Placing his hands on the small shoulders, ready to deny the request—he wanted to have _one_ quiet evening to himself, please—but on hearing the request, both Daiki and Haya cheer in praise at Retsu being such a smart boy.

Taiga closes his eyes.

* * *

 

“I swear,” Taiga mumbled as Tomo shuffled behind him, pulling out the cutlery they may use that night, making sure to stay out of the elder male’s way, “That you guys are making undue use of me.” He glares over his shoulder at Daiki. “When was the last time you cooked a meal for you household?!” Taiga demanded.

“Hah?” Daiki munched idly on the _senbei_ Tomo had been snacking on while doing his homework at the kitchen counter, temple resting on an open palm, watching the television as a loud whatever-age the lilac-haired-girl was complaining about, Haya cooing out “ _It’s alright, Lala-chan, it’s alright!”_ and he tried not to curse at where the story line was going. Hands twitching to switch the channel quickly before his brains melted—Daiki loved Haya, but the anime she was glued to at the moment was killing him; even Retsu watched better action-packed cartoons—before he recognised what his neighbour just asked. “Breakfast,” he easily replied.

“Don’t lie!” Taiga snapped, banging the cast iron pan from inside close to where Daiki was lazing, effectively startling him to sit straight if only to glare back at the redhead. “Tomo came over for bread, and then for the jam, and then told me “ _while you are at it, would it be possible to have the_ nikujaga _from last night? I was thinking of putting that in my lunch today.”_ Now why would he think that, huh?!”

Daiki blinked, trying to remember the morning sequence. “Ahhh, that!” He snapped his fingers. “The super was sold out, so I couldn’t buy the bread on my way back.”

Taiga’s facial muscles twitched in annoyance. “Idiot. You came back before me. _I_ went to the super and there was bread then.”

Daiki waved his hand, denying. “No, no. When I went out for my run in the evening, I stopped by then to pick it up. I always forget when coming home from work.”

Over the sounds of Haya singing the ending song from her anime show, and the awkward hushing and shushing of Tomo and Retsu behind Taiga, he looks at Daiki as though there must have been a mistake in life that could possibly benefit from a reset button. Taiga would not use it for himself, going back in time to meet Aomine Daiki for the first time and understand early on what a cruel joke Fate was, but for the other male instead, to reset the time he decided to populate the Earth with his genes.

“You…were not made to be a father,” Taiga decides to share.

Surprisingly, instead of his usual brash way of disregarding Taiga, Daiki stills for all of two seconds before an easy—but no less pained—smile stretches on his lips. “Yea…I wasn’t.”

Feeling as though he should apologise for being insensitive, Taiga loses his chance when the smell reaches his nose. Turning around he held his breath.

Taiga watched as the smoke rose high and heavy, and there was nothing he could say differently to make the sight he was seeing look better. Tomo was nowhere in sight.

“Didn’t I tell you not to leave the stove unattended?”

“But I didn’t,” Retsu mumbled, snubbing his toe against the floor, “Technically,” he added.

Taiga sighed, arms akimbo.

He pulled the little child away from the stove and made him stand to the side as he went about cleaning up the charred mess Retsu kept for him. He wanted to lecture the boy—there was so many things he could say to the almost carbon-copy of Daiki—but he refrained. Licking his lips, he said authoritatively, “They are called ‘pot stickers’ for a reason, Retsu. If you don’t use the right pan or grease it enough, it’s going to stick to the surface and char the way it did earlier.”

Retsu nods, sullen.

He motions for the boy to come closer as he wipes his hands dry. Hefting the cast iron pan, knocks on it and says, “See, if we use this, they’ll come out right. Okay?”

Grinning once again, Retsu’s face brightens up. Taiga stares at it for a second longer wondering if Daiki too looks the same way when he truly smiles. Glancing over his shoulder, the tired, broken man that he sees is miles away from the innocent face Retsu projects.

“Will the food be done soon or should I start snacking like _oyaji_ is?” Tomo’s voice pops up from behind, startling Taiga out of his reverie.

“If you snack now, you won’t eat your food properly, so no.” Taiga warns him. “I thought you were helping Retsu at the stove.”

Tomo looks down his nose, jaw square. “I had a call. And it looked like he knew what he was doing.” Before Taiga could reprimand the blasé attitude that the teenager was picking up from his useless father, Tomo jerked his chin towards said man. “Why’s he like that?”

“It’s not ‘he’,” Taiga automatically corrects, and Tomo pouts, “And I think I said something too brash.”

At Tomo’s insistent stare, Taiga rolls his eyes. “That he was not meant to be a father.”

“Oh.”

Taiga glances at Tomo from the corner of his eye before paying attention to Retsu’s daredevil escapades of sorting out the perfect configuration of placing the handmade _gyoza_ on the sizzling pan. He had to physically restrain the boy before he decided to face-plant himself rather than the _gyoza_ ; this child was scaring him.

“What is it?” Because if Tomo can persuade him to tattle, he could as well. Somewhere in his mind, a voice reminds him that he is the adult and not a petulant child, so he ignores that voice on principle.

Tomo looks away, as though deciding, before he glances at Taiga under his lashes. Tomo is very like his father, dark blue hair, dark blue eyes, thick eyelashes, only his skin colour is pale cream, something he is sure that he has gotten from his mother. Taiga has seen a picture of her once, when Haya was taking a family portrait to school for Show and Tell. The woman was lean and slim, not petite in the chest area, a full bodied smile, and dark brown eyes. It is the same eyes that cautiously glance up at him from Retsu’s face.

“ _Okaasan_ ,” Tomo says with paramount respect that nothing else the teenager says from those lips have, “was pregnant with me before they got married.”

Taiga pauses in nodding his head. “Hm?”

“Yea,” Tomo looks at his nails, trying to play off uninterested, but his stiff shoulders and his stiff neck gives him away. “So _oyaji_ was forced to settle down early.” An eerie smile stretches on his face. “Everyone tells us how much of a prodigy he was at basketball and that he could have gone pro, but he became a father instead.”

There is a heavy sensation that Taiga cannot describe when he hears those words. Words a child should never have to say, that a child should never need to say instead of their parent to a friend; Tomo, for all that he is a partially well-mannered child in Taiga’s eyes, did not deserve to be the one telling him that. For the second time in the span on five minutes, Taiga is regretting his words.

Seeing his face change and the awkward silence, Tomo instantly bottles up, shoulders up to his ears. Before he can deny the words he has unwittingly made Taiga aware of, the redhead breaks in, “My mother,” he starts off, looking at Retsu gingerly pluck each done _gyoza_ and place it on a nearby tray prepared for him, “did not want to have children at all.”

Tomo’s shoulders slowly hunker down, and remained drooped.

“She was an ambitious one, always working, always busy, like my dad. They were both very busy.” Taiga has made peace with the fact that he will never come first in their eyes, and that even though they were hardly around, they still allowed him the freedom to choose his own life, even if they expected more from him. He remembers, clear as day, when the soft clicking of his mother’s tongue echoes in the dining area before she unfolds her arms against her chest, sighs, and get up from her seat.

“ _To each his own_ ,” she had said.

Taiga helped Retsu as the boy struggled to place the new batch onto the pan, mindful that the younger brother was listening to his conversation more than he was paying attention to the now steaming pan. He chuckled, patting his head. “As I grew older, what she used to say to me paled in comparison what I was able to do. Sure, I lived a large part of my life without her in it, but then, I got to do a lot of things that if I think about it, I would not have been able to.”

Tomo’s voice was on the softer side of the regular dose of arrogance. “Like what?”

“Eh?” Taiga tried to think about his past ten-twenty years condensed in a second. “Er, like playing basketball and surfing, and I guess all sorts of sports. She hated how I was being ‘brash and unmanly’ and that I didn’t do so well in school.” He grimaced at the thought of his education. Thank the higher beings that joining the safety service in Japan did not require more than a high school diploma.

“You played basketball?” This time, the question comes from the eavesdropper.

Taiga throws his head back at Daiki. “Well, yea.”

The grin he sees on the man’s face is not quite as innocent as Retsu’s was, but it was closer to being free and wholesome, and more than Taiga thought he would get after his thoughtlessness. It is smile he keeps in his thoughts; way after dinner, even when the last cries from Haya reach him as Tomo bows, closing the door behind the Aomine family. Taiga sighs, stretching his body out, glad that even though they bulldoze their way into his kitchen and meal times, they still help to clean after. Now all he needs is a bath and sleep.

Daiki’s smile still lingers, bright, easy, daring.

It is no wonder Taiga dreams of basketball in what seems like years.

* * *

 

There is, Taiga imagines, a hell for people like Daiki.

People who creep into your life in the slow and steady way, planting roots so deep and firm, that without realising you are feeding them the energy to stay on. Like the owner of a garden that has a gardener, and so does not know the flowers they are admiring are actually weeds killing what could be prized botanical things. Like—taiga loses track of any analogies because he has walked into his house (he is very sure it is, because he walked out, closed the door, stared at his number plaque with his name under, and then opened the door again), only to see various sizes of the Aomine family spread about his living space.

“What?” he breathes out.

Tomo, as usual, is the first to see him. “Oh, _okaeirinasai_.” The greeting calls forth the others from their engaged activity to look up at Taiga. Two pairs of blue eyes and one lone pair of brown. He blinks, hoping he is just walking into the aftereffect of a dream, and focuses on the ceiling as he awkwardly removes his shoes.

“ _Okaeiri_!” someone echoes. It is not the imaginary-Retsu spurring up to his bony legs and running towards the _genkan_ that Taiga is afraid to step out of.

“Kaga-chan! _Okaeirinasai!_ ” The not-there-Haya screams out to be heard.

“Ah, _Okaeiri_ ,” is the breaking word as Taiga lands on his knees, hands supported at the step, head bowed to the floor. “How was work?”

“Kaga-chan! You didn’t say _tadaima!_ ”

“Oh, good girl, Haya-chan! You know your greetings well!”

Crying, Taiga stutters out, “ _T-tadaima_.”

“Ah! _Touchan!_ Kagami-san is crying! Something must have happened at work!” Retsu’s well-meaning concerned voice is drowned by the multitudes of footsteps rushing to greet him at the door.

“…I think I saw beer in the fridge. Should I pour you some?” Tomo asks, going down to his haunches as he tilts his head to come into Taiga’s field of vision. He wants to close his eyes against the cleverly hidden apprehension by the not-quite-a-drawl the boy uses, but something makes him keep blinking out the tears in his eyes. The rush of emotion from his chest, both tight and feathery, is confusing him and Taiga wants to know what they mean. “Kagami-san?” Tomo questions, placing a hand tentatively on his shoulder.

“Maybe _touchan_ should cook your amazing, special, tremendously spicy _tonjiru_ for Kagami-san!” Retsu intones, right by Taiga’s ear.

“Hah?” Daiki sounds out.

“Why do you know how to make _tonjiru_ but you can’t make simple curry?” Taiga wants to know.

“Eh, because I like it?” Daiki asks, as he also squats down before him. Looking up at the displacement of air, Taiga finds himself right in Daiki’s face, squinting down at him. “You okay, dude?”

And then Taiga remembers—mind forcing itself away from how beautiful the blue irises of Aomine Daiki’s eyes were, and how his dark skin was even and unblemished, and his cheeks were high, and his nose was perfectly straight and pointed and _how come no one decided to break his nose once or twice is beyond me_ —the original reason he is on his hands and knees at his own door, looking at the Aomine family so eager to greet him on this auspicious day.

Somehow, they have gotten his key.

* * *

 

 

**Author’s Note:** Hahaha. So. I did it again.

The anime I speak of exists! “PriPara” and the character is Manaka Laala. This is just here so that I’ve disclaimed it. No other reason. **I DO NOT WATCH IT!!!**

**Translations!**

_Oyaji:_ Old Man! Father who is old :D Least respective way to call one’s father.

_Gyoza:_ please tell me you all know what this is! They are known as “pot stickers” to most of the world; and are really the Japanese version of pan fried dumplings. First they pan-fry it on the bottom, then add some water to steam the rest of the dumpling. It sounds time-consuming, so usually families that have young members partake in helping to make this. Otherwise, it’s easier to order from out :P

_Senbei:_ rice crackers.

_Nikujaga:_ the famous meat and potatoes stew!

_Tonjiri:_ Pork Soup! It’s basically a miso soup with pork in it. I’ve made this once, and it is so easy, that it would make sense for Aomine to make it. Only I changed his version to be spicy (the way I ended up making mine, because I could not stand how my pork soup tasted fishier than it was supposed to be).

_Okaeirinasai/Okaeiri nasai:_ Welcome home.

_Tadaima:_ Present/I’m here/I’m home, depends when and how you use it.

 

Hope you guys enjoyed this :)


	3. Programme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **The wearing down of Taiga's defences happens too easily and without notice; he has got to get with the programme. Too bad that the Aomines are avid channel surfers.**

“We had nothing to eat yesterday, sir,” he was confided in when the boys came home. His home, that is. Taiga sighed, petulant, and wondered if it would change anything if he said he could care less. Technically, that would have caused more problems than it would solve—but there it was, he could feel the scowl on his face deepening.

“Why are you telling me this?” He tried to ask calmly.

It was Tomo that confirmed the niggling suspicion. “Well, yesterday you made _Tendon_ but we didn’t come over, and today you look to have pork with you…” Tomo was speaking more to the plastic bag in his hand on the right side than him. To prove a point, to whom he does not know), he discreetly changed hands without making it seem obvious, and two sets of eyes followed the plastic bag behind him, as though his thighs were glass.

Taiga was not impressed.

“No.”

Retsu blinked. “’No’ what?”

“No, I am not cooking for you.”

Tomo, finally looking up, coughed once and drooped his eyes. Taiga knew this too. “Sir, you don’t have to cook _for us_ ,” suspicion made him narrow his umber-red eyes at the teenager, “but you can get rid of leftovers by giv—I mean, dumping them int—er, on us.”

Clenching his teeth, Taiga demanded, “Does your father feed you guys at all?!!”

“Well of course he does,” Tomo snapped back, affronted, all pretence flying out the open balcony they were having this conversation before; the fresh air blowing in was at odds with Taiga’s rising mood. He narrowed his eyes at how comfortable the boys have gotten in his house, Tomo doing his homework at his cleared kitchen worktop on the living room side, and Retsu pretending to take the break he needs from studying be watching television. “He lets us come to you right?!”

Taiga smacked his face, beyond stunned. “No! That’s—Listen! You have—urgh!” He bit his tongue, mewling at the sudden pain, and then glancing over at the two boys, wondering what to do. Twin doe eyes looked beseechingly at him and, unable to resist longer than he has, Taiga’s shoulders slumped. Before he can acquiesce with spoken words, the boys are grinning and cheering and talking a mile a minute about something that happened on their way home, and wondered if Taiga had an eventful work shift.

Taiga does not register a word from either of them; he is convinced there is a conspiracy hidden behind these children’s advances.

 

* * *

 

The paper sits dead centre of his kitchen island, making it difficult to unregister it from his head.

He places his mug of mid-afternoon coffee with a dull thud two inches away from one corner of said paper, warm fingers edging towards it.

Taiga has seen these before, back in the day, when he was in school. He even kept them at the same spot, only to be thrown out later in the evening because it was a pointless circular given by his homeroom teachers since there were no adults living with him that could attend those functions.

Seeing a similar circular on his table, however, made a few thoughts run rampant in his head. One, being, _when did I get a child?_ Another one was _which one of them left this here?!_

Taiga plucks the paper tentatively and reads the contents.

“Hell no,” he emphatically spits, hand holding the circular shaking in rage, before he abandons all thought of food and heads for the main door.

 

* * *

 

Tomo pulls his headphones away with a frown, wondering if he was the only one feeling the vibrations of an oncoming earthquake since Retsu and Haya are before him, engrossed in their child-like activities. When he does, the banging on the front door signals the only visitor the Aomine family knows who would mindlessly use violence on such a sturdy piece of furniture, and Tomo is idly wondering when his father would request for a duplicate key to hand over to Kagami-san.

Retsu, as usual, is the first on his feet. Tomo does not stop him—moot at this point in their mutually inclusive relationship—but he does get up to see what was bothering their kind neighbour.

“Kagami—!” Retsu’s greeting is halted rudely by the glare Kagami-san is dishing out at the two of them, glancing about.

“Where’s your father?”

“ _Oyaji’s_ at work,” Tomo supplies, pulling at Retsu and offering to let Kagami-san into their home. The redhead, however, does not budge from the threshold. His large muscular body is shivering, and Tomo does not know if it is only because of the cold air of the weather. What he does know, however, glancing at the paper clutched tightly in his fist, is the reason for another kind of body shake. “Oh,” he says.

Kagami-san freezes. His red eyes dart down to him (Tomo hates that his height is taking its time when even Retsu has already gone up by two inches in the summer) and one thick split eyebrow arches. “ _Oh_?” The man questions.

“Want to come in?” Tomo deflects instead, opening the door wider. Kagami-san hesitates. “I’ll tell you inside.”

Kagami-san frowns but he agrees, shuffling into the _genkan_ and removing his slippers. Retsu, another peculiarity when Kagami-san was involved, is sitting on his shins, pushing the special house slippers that the Aomine family had gotten him. Tomo does not scrimp on the meaning of ‘special’; unlike their plain, off-white house slippers, these were orange and black striped with the head of a tiger roaring at the point. It was probably one of the reasons Kagami-san refused to come over when called.

It takes a few minutes then, between Haya’s excited rambling and forcing her to release her hold on Kagami-san to help Retsu in the kitchen for tea, Tomo hesitantly brings himself to sit before Kagami-san at the table. “Sorry,” he starts, and sees those weird red coloured irides get hidden through the narrowing of the man’s eyes, “Schools will be starting their usual PTA meetings, and _Oyaji_ is…” Tomo fidgets under the table, glad that the redhead had sat there rather than at the sofa.

“What’s with your father, Tomo-kun?” Kagami-san wheedles.

Tomo cringes. “Bad at these interviews.” The scoff is not uncalled, and Tomo would have likely done the same, but years of going through PTA meetings with his father, and then sometimes with his grandmother, and then sometimes with Satsuki- _oba_ , has made not only Tomo but also his siblings hate informing their awkward family about them.

“What is your father good at?” Kagami-san mumbles out in anger, mouth set in a grimace, glaring now at the table surface. Red eyes dart up quickly though, a confused squint, “But why are you telling me this? Surely you don’t expect me to—”

When Kagami-san breaks off, it is to an enlightened silence.

“You guys must be joking,” He starts, getting back onto his feet, “I’m f—er, nothing more than a hassled neighbour to you guys, and seriously,” Kagami-san pauses at Tomo’s side, looking down at him, an expression the teenager has not seen on the elder man’s face before, “Your father would be devastated to know you did this.”

Tomo faces the table, head hanging, and the quiet click of the front door closing behind Kagami-san is etched into his mind.

Retsu comes out, carrying a tray with a teacup and a bowl filled with a lot of biscuits—because a plate was useless with Kagami-san—Haya following at his heels. The boy stops, looking around.

“Tomo- _nii_?”

Tomo glances at him.

“Where’s Kagami-san?”

Tomo lets his head fall completely onto the table, chest tight, and manages to say, “He had things to do.”

The elder brother can feel the stare his younger brother levies on him, but is infinitely glad the boy does not call out his lie; he has already made one too many mistakes today.

 

* * *

 

Taiga is plopped on the step of his _genkan_ , poised to start his boots’ upkeep since the snow was starting to pile up this winter, but for the life of him, he cannot move a muscle.

There is a sticking in his throat, thick, unsavoury sickness, that makes it hard to swallow the gathering spittle in his mouth. He hums and haws to himself, sighing aggressively in the silence of his apartment, and he drops his arms between his legs. Taiga’s fingers trail against the floor, casting small, light shadows across the entryway. This restlessness under his skin, inching upwards to his brain, is stifling him.

“Fuck this,” He breathes out, annoyed with himself, with his noisy neighbours, with the world. “I don’t need this shit.” Excrement he did not need, that was telling, but his body still forced him back to his feet, replacing his house slippers, and literally dragged him back into the house proper. There, standing astride, he waits.

He already knows what he has to do, what he wants to do, so he wastes less time and gets onto it.

Meals with the Aomines feel more filling than how they otherwise felt empty when those large amazed eyes were not praising him anymore.

“I really don’t need this shit,” he mumbled for the last time, getting to work on dinner.

 

* * *

 

All activity seemed to freeze when the bell was rung.

The Aomine family had no visitors—announced or unannounced—that would warrant a quick and homey response to their bell ringer, so the four remained still.

The bell rung again, and they were content to remain staring, if the _thud thud thud_ spurred confused movement from Retsu. The boy stood and made his way to the passage, but stalled hesitantly at the edge, unknowing what to do. He glanced over his shoulder to where he could see his father looking in his direction—more over his head at the still closed door than him—and mentally questioned if it was alright to progress further.

Since he was near, Retsu could hear the heavy sigh from the other side, and the shuffling soon following said noise. Scrambling then (Retsu knew he could not let this pass), he jumped at the door, flying across the _genkan_ easily, and struggled to open the sturdy door one-handed. Even without checking, Retsu’s head falls back easily to a predetermined level to look up, just as easily catching the red stare of Kagami-san. The sigh that he releases is more relief that it was their neighbour than the fact that he caught up to him.

“Ka-” Retsu stifled the name in his mouth, as though gulping down his rashness in case this was not a friendly call. His wariness, however, made the man at the door curse internally at himself.

“Retsu,” Kagami-san spoke, softer than he has ever. Retsu glanced up, blinking doe eyes at him. “Have you guys had dinner yet?” He raises his delicious smelling burden, watery smile on lips, “This is for you guys.”

Retsu catches the nuance of his words easily. “…Won’t you be eating with us?”

Kagami-san blinked at him. Shuffling from one foot to another, “I don’t think I’m welc—”

“Just shut your yap and get in,” his father calls out, having not moved from the kitchen island.

Kagami-san frowns, and Retsu prepares for both, a shouting match and damage control on his part, but is (pleasantly?) surprised that Kagami-san shakes his head and then bows as he slips across the threshold. “ _Oja-masu_ ,” he flippantly mumbles, something Retsu gets a rap at his ears for if he imitates, he knows, and closes the door behind them. Retsu looks forward, wondering why the man is not moving before he remembered the house slippers. Even here, he freezes, because it is a script he does not know how to adlib.

Haya, the little twerp, comes to their rescue, scuttling to her knees and bringing out the Kagami-special slippers. His sister looks up, lips protruding in that facial expression which gets her leeway with most adults, and wobbly eyes. Above Retsu, Kagami-san sighs, and moves to put them on.

“Thanks, Haya-chan,” he says, and starts to move ahead before he glances back at Retsu. “What’s wrong? Are you not hungry?”

Retsu fumbles on his two feet, knees seemingly buckling, chest feeling as though there is cotton in it; he strides besides Kagami-san as they reach the living area.

That stuffy feeling in his chest is uncomfortable but not so bad. It feels way better than the other heavy feeling, and, watching the quirky smile on Kagami-san’s face towards his father, Retsu grins with abandon, the cotton feeling becoming sickly sweet in his mouth.

 

* * *

 

When Retsu and Haya are put to bed—Taiga knows better to think they were actually asleep—Daiki manhandles Tomo to the kitchen island where all important family discussions seem to take place in the Aomine family. Not that Taiga disagrees; the couch in the Aomines’ living room is a landmine for little toys that dig into his firm muscles and leave awkward bruises to which Taiga hears no end of it from his colleagues. He can do without more embarrassment in his life.

Tomo, for his part, is subdued and has been from the moment Taiga arrived with his pacifying meal earlier on in the evening. The teenager looks smaller than usual, shoulders drawn in, face small as it is tucked in the cover his shoulders provide up to his ears. Glancing sideways to Daiki, Taiga does not blame the kid a bit.

“Taiga, dude, really sorry about what my brat did earlier,” Daiki started to say, but his grin was different, forced somehow, and Taiga did not like it. The cloying feeling from when he had decided to make the family a meal returned with a vengeance, clawing its way further up his oesophagus as though wanting to see the light of day. He held his breath, hoping it was enough to hold it at bay.

Taiga wants to remove that stretch of lips with a swipe of his fingers, flick it right off because it has no place on the other male. The child sitting near him is shrinking further as though knowing he was the inevitable cause of his father’s current behaviour. Taiga wants to ruffle that perfect hairdo just to see the teenager scowl up at him, mouth scrunched up, anything but the one he currently sports.

Taiga’s breathing tightens up.

“D-don’t worry about it,” Taiga manages to mutter, words like lead. They tumble from the edge of his lips forcibly—pushed by their predecessor to make breathing easy. It does not though, and placing a palm against his sternum, Taiga glances about, looking as though indecisive. “I was just surprised.”

“Yea, sorry about that,” Daiki followed with, automatically nodding his head, but his eyes did not meet anyone else’s at the granite worktop. “It’s understandable.”

_It’s not_ , Taiga frowns almost loudly enough to hear.

Daiki in turn raises a hand to Tomo’s nape, and without another physical prompt, the boy is already bowing his head low. The sight uncharacteristically pains Taiga even more than he has ever felt when shooting his mouth off with the kids. “I apologise for my rudeness,” the boy murmurs.

The whole situation is ethereal and Taiga’s feet are itching to make him run. Run away from the kitchen, run away from the Aomines who only know how to cause him grief. _Honestly_ , he chews the inside of his lower lip, _why do I feel like the bad guy here??_

Before things can turn into an outcome he cannot handle or live with, Taiga straightens his shoulders and literally bulldozes through the apologetic scene before him. “Listen, I just—I’m not a parent. Heck, I don’t think I’ll ever be a good parent. But,” he rubs one palm at his nape, fingers clenching at the long bangs at the back, “I would have wanted my folks to come to these meetings even if they were going to be a mess.” He sighs, looking at his clothed thighs, “Yea, it would have been incredibly embarrassing for me later, but if they had come, I guess it would have changed my relationship with them.” Taiga glances over the worktop at Tomo, the younger male’s eyes blinking uncontrollably. “You’ve only got your dad, and even if he’s an idiot, he tries his best to be there for you guys. Don’t—” Taiga had a look on his face that told his audience that he could not believe he was choking on his words “—don’t take that away from him.”

Taiga ends his plea by shakily getting to his feet, hot palms bracing themselves on the cool worktop, and made his way to the front door in such speed, his commanding officer at the fire station would have been proud.

As he closes his own door after him, he clenches his eyelids against the wetness that was threatening to show its presence. “Seriously don’t need this right now.”

 

* * *

 

Retsu thought that things resumed to their normal sequence of events the previous nights, so on seeing Kagami-san in the morning at the burnable garbage collection site, he sped up and tackled the elder male. “Kagami-san~!” he greeted, “Good morning!”

Kagami-san groaned first, a hand moving on what could only be on auto-pilot to Retsu’s head, patting it and keep the boy at his side, before the greeting was returned. “It’s so early, how come you’re here?”

Retsu grinned, swinging the heavy bag he had been dragging most of the distance to the collection site. “Tōchan woke up late today, so we all got responsibilities to carry out instead!” Retsu followed Kagami-san’s motion by setting his bag next to the redhead’s and watched as the man draped the security net over the bags for them. He grinned up at the man who had a bemused look on his face.

“Woke up late, huh?” Kagami-san questioned.

“Un!” Retsu skipped to the man’s side. He tried to imitate the other male, shoving his hands into his pockets and slouching, taking longer strides than he could possibly do, and they made their way to the apartment complex. “Tōchan was busy trying to reschedule his shifts so that he could make it to the PTA meetings.” He felt more than saw his kind neighbour stiffen at the topic, but Retsu forged on. “This is the first time Tōchan actually planned these meetings. Otherwise he just dropped by and hardly got to speak to sensei about us.”

Kagami-san slowed to a halt, and as Retsu looked back at him, the usually narrowed red eyes were wide.

Retsu smiled widely. “Thanks, Kagami-san!” And laughing, he reached back to pull at the unresponsive redhead’s arm. “Hey, hey, what should we have for dinner today? I’ve got club today and Tomo-nii has cram school.”

“Yea?” Retsu did not miss the sudden grin in the man’s voice. “And what about Haya-chan?”

“She’ll be in day-care until Satsuki- _bachan_ can pick her up.” They were nearing the complex. Retsu sprinted up the stairs, turning to watch the large man thud up the steps in a calm and controlled pace. “You’ve not met Satsuki- _bachan_ , have you?” Kagami-san shook his head. Retsu conspiratorially lowered his voice, then, “She’s really pretty, but scary! _Tōchan’s_ so whipped when it comes to her!”

Kagami-san’s laugh echoed loudly, shocking Retsu. “That I’d like to see.”

“Don’t count on it,” came the annoyed drawl of his _Tōchan’s_ voice. Retsu _eeped_ when he turned to face his glowering _Tōchan’s_ face. “You’re so slow, Retsu…I don’t know how you got to be on the basketball team being the slowest member.”

Retsu huffed. “Not true! I’m the fastest member on the team! And I was talking to Kagami-san! Mou!” He stuck out his tongue at his _Tōchan_ , rushing to where Tomo held his backpack for him, pulling it on. He turned then, fully expecting to continue the argument, but stopped at the constipated look Kagami-san had on his face.

“About last night…” the redhead was saying.

His _Tōchan_ waved his hand lazily, a sign Retsu knows as the man’s way of saying ‘it’s alright’. “No, I’ve to thank you.” He paused. “I’ve been going through the motions, pretending that I’ve been doing my best and no one should be able to question me on it, but…truth is,” the same hand reached to the back of a slender nape, “I’ve been slacking off and been caught. So what I wanted to say was…” Retsu could not believe his father was being nervous! “Thanks for picking on it…Taiga.”

Kagami-san sputtered. “Ta-Taiga?!”

Beside him, Tomo chuckled behind a closed fist, the other hand holding Haya at bay by her shirt collar. Retsu, too, laughed at the look on Kagami-san’s face, unable to see what his father was doing—for all he knew, the elder Aomine was grinning from ear-to-ear.

“That’s Kagami to you!” Their neighbour roared.

His _Tōchan_ laughed uproariously. “Yea, yea, we’ll see you tonight, Taiga. _Ittekimasu_ ~!”

“Um, yea, _ittera—_ Hey, wai—!”

They passed by the man on the staircase, all echoing their father’s _ittekimasu_ greeting, grins carbon copy of the original’s.

“AOMINE!”

 

* * *

 

**Translation Notes:**

_Tendon_ : Short for ‘Tempura _donburi’_ (“big rice bowl”).

_Oja-masu_ : Slang for ‘Ojama shimasu’, meaning ‘I’m bothering you’ or ‘I’m being a pest’.

_Ittekimasu_ : ‘See you later’ or ‘I’m leaving!’

_Itterasshai_ : ‘See you later’ in response to or before ‘Ittekimasu’, or ‘Take care!’

[Really, like most Japanese greetings, these three phrases can be so vague…so technically depends on the person and the situation.]

 

**Author’s Notes** : It has been ages, and there is no ‘excuse’ as such, besides bad balance and health, and then bad coping mechanisms. OTL. Hopefully, I’ll be a little more considerate and post things I’ve written. I hate keeping incomplete work around, so yea…you should probably expect updates around the place… :D

I feel like I have also forgotten why I wrote this in the first place…besides, of course, my entertainment and the fact that I like torturing Kagami. But then there’s ‘If It Takes a Lifetime’ to consider too…what to say; I’m a sucker for family AoKagaAo.


	4. Judged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Emergencies are what Taiga has lived and breathed for since he was eighteen. It only makes sense then, for him to be able to handle this. How wrong he was. ******

* * *

 

 

Taiga stared at the superintendent at the front of the mass of fighters standing at attention. He knew he should pay attention to what the man was saying— “—and as one we will understand more of each other—” —but the contents of the never-ending speech reminded him of those end of term speeches that his high school principle had loved giving.

(The other more distracting factor was the vibrating at his thigh.)

Just before the meeting, he had been on break. Thumbing through personal emails, advertisement messages and generally passing time, he received a shock at the loud shrill of his ringtone. It took him a while to even recognise he was receiving a call.

The number, however, looked far from familiar.

Frowning, he answered, gruff tones slipping out unintentionally; for all he knew, it was a telesales. “Kagami.”

“Um…” A mildly panicked, demure voice squeaked out, “Is this Kagami Taiga-san?”

“Yes.”

The voice, now more identifiable as a woman, squeaked some more. “Yes,” she stuttered again, “Kagami-san, I’m calling from Okusawa Elementary, my name is Tachibana from Grade 1.” Her words were rushed out, tumbling out her words, probably reading from a script; probably a new teacher.   Taiga understood more with the fact that it was a usual case when people heard his voice than because the woman—Tachibana—had communication issues. “I was given your number as an emergency contact.”

Taiga sputtered. “For Okusawa Elementary?” Which child did he have—Taiga’s palpitating heart calmed down. “Grade 1 is it?” He recalled. “Are you taking about Aomine Haya?”

“Ah, yes,” there was apparent relief in Tachibana’s voice.

“…so this would be Tachibana-sensei?” He hazarded a guess, his face free hand rising to rub his face, cheeks pulled down with the motion.

“Ah, yes!” Any other time, Taiga would have been amused by the apparent rise in excitement in the teacher’s voice, but at present, he wondered if he could get away with murder. Scratch that, serial murders.

“Is Haya hurt?” He wanted to know.

There was an obvious pause in the flow of conversation. Then, “Well, let’s just say that we’re worried about who else will get hurt if she remains at school.”

Taiga sighed, thumping his head on his locker door. “Give me the address. I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

 

* * *

 

Tachibana-sensei looked just as she sounded on the phone: small and demure, almost mousey with her size and shape. She was a dark brunette, hair tied artfully away from her face, cheeks pinked with colour and eyes lightly done in makeup, Taiga could not tell if she was naturally beautiful or not. Either way, when the teacher looked at him on entrance, her small brown eyes widened to comical proportions and her little light pink mouth dropped agape. She was still staring for another few moments before Taiga ended her plight.

“Tachibana-sensei, a pleasure meeting you,” Taiga lied. Nowhere in his lifetime did he want to meet with a teacher to talk about rowdy children, not his own nor someone else’s. “Where is Haya?”

“Ah, K-K-Kagami-san, is it? A pleasure,” She stuttered, and for sure, he can tell it is an dismal lie. He shrugs off the thoughts, looking down at her—she was horribly short and causing him neck cramps—waiting for her knees to stop shaking so she could lead the distance to the semi-meeting area in the staff room. “Please have a seat. Aomine-chan is at the counsellor’s office.” The woman hardly waited for Taiga to be seated before she backpedalled and disappeared.

He wondered if he would see her again this year, with the way she looked leaving.

No sooner than he had thought so, the woman reappeared, hesitating between keeping Haya between Taiga and her, or running away for safety. Taiga felt more insulted than he thought possible; he had not even done anything to the woman.

“Kaga-chan!” Haya’s eyes were wide, jaw dropped in surprise. Taiga figured he would be hundreds richer by the end of the day with the amount of surprised looks he had been receiving.

“What’s this I hear about people getting hurt if you _remain_ at school?” He demanded, not wasting any time in the interrogation.

Haya gulped, glanced down at her feet, scuffing her shoes. Her arms were held behind her back, and she looked like the epitome of penitence that even Tachibana awed softly behind the child.

Taiga rolled his eyes.

“Do we have to stay here any longer, or can I take her home?” Taiga asked, hands on his knees, itching to spring up and leave this little-people hellhole.

Tachibana-sensei started, blinking wide eyes, and tried to form a sentence with her dry throat. She shook her head, wordless, and taking it as the end of a torturing experience, Taiga bowed his head in mock politeness and stood. He thanked the woman (for ruining his day), put one hand on Haya’s tiny shoulder and steered the young girl out of the staff room, and subsequently out of the school.

“So?” Taiga asked, “What did you do?”

Haya licked her lips, hands clenched around the straps of her red backpack. “I didn’t do anything,” she simpered.

Taiga scoffed. “I don’t believe you. You’re father and every other adult might believe you are the angelic version of your father, but I can tell you now that I’m not blind. Heck, your father is like a saint compared to you!”

Haya pouted and furrowed her eyebrows. “Not true!”

“Is true,” he snapped back, and Haya cringed at the loud volume. Toning it down a bit, he continued on, “Children on a regular tend to mischievous, I get that, but you’re a whole other story.”

They managed to walk some more in silence, reaching a fork in the road. Taiga paused, deciding which side to go before Haya tugged him towards the left road. “There’s a shop that sells homemade pudding over there,” she said while pointing, “So it’s that side.”

Taiga glanced down. “You didn’t have to add the pudding part.”

A wry tilt of lips on a six-year old looked awkward, but Taiga knew it was at home on Haya’s face. “Tōchan would buy some to take home whenever he had to come pick me up.”

“So this happens often, huh?”

Haya did not respond. Instead, nearing the aforementioned shop, she pulled at Taiga’s arm. “It’s here.” They stood, perplexed, hand-in-hand, and not moving. “Satsuki- _bachan_ also buys puffs and cakes from here.” Taiga did not budge. “Even _obāchan_ bought sticky rice cakes for tea.”

“And?” He decided to humour her a bit, “What should I get?”

Haya looked up at him, incredulous, “Kaga-chan, since it’s you, you should get all of it.”

Taiga cuffed the girl at the side of her head, making sure to be gentler in his action, but the smile on his lips threatened to give away his current disposition.

 

* * *

 

Daiki did not know what he was coming home to, but a spread of dessert was not one of them.

And neither was Haya doing squats with her arms crossed before her chest so that her little fingers could reach her little ears. “Twenty-eight,” she grunted, standing up, “Twenty-nine,” she huffed, then catching sight of him, she went down again with, “Three hundred and thirty.”

Daiki raised an eyebrow.

“You little liar,” Taiga’s voice came from the stove. Daiki followed it but did not come into view, watching the redhead holding a spatula in one hand while the other was fisted, resting on his hip. “Now that makes fifty more lines and thirty more squats.”

“Kaga-chan, no fair!” Haya whined. “Haya-chan said she’s sorry and is tired right now.”

“Way fair, Haya,” Tomo interrupted instead, coming from the hallway with his books in his hand. It seemed he had just gotten back from school. “You even ate the cake before dinner.”

“But I ate it after lunch!”

“But Kagami-san said no dessert after lunch!” Taiga’s favourite piped up, possibly at his hip in the kitchen where Daiki could not see. Then the dark skinned boy jumped up onto the kitchen counter and Daiki watched as a broad smile lit his face. “And you promised no more lying, Haya-chan!” Suddenly, Retsu snapped his head towards him, eyes widening. Vaulting over the counter, Retsu crowed out, “ _Tōchan!_ You’re back!”

Daiki sniggered, gathering the energetic boy into his arms. “And what are you guys doing, bullying my little princess?”

Taiga scoffed but did not speak.

Tomo neared them, jutting a hip as he rested his books. “You’re early.”

Daiki glared at his first born. “Is that a complaint?”

The teenager shrugged. “I just put in the beer, though.” Blinking he questioned what that was supposed to mean. Tomo sighed. “Well, I forgot to replace the bottle yesterday, so…”

“Let it be, Tomo,” Taiga came out, removing his apron as he came into view. “If your dad wants some, he can go and get some himself.”

Daiki’s glare returned. “Or I can drop by next door and pilfer one.”

Taiga grinned. “If you can find a way to get in.” Waggling his eyebrows suggestively, Taiga resumed the task of getting dinner together, helped by Retsu and Tomo who, on seeing the confused look on Daiki’s face, decided it was better to dash away than be subjugated to the interrogation of one of Setagaya’s finest.

“What happened between breakfast this morning and dinner now?” Daiki wanted to know, going back to where he had dumped his keys in the little orange and blue bowl near the entrance, fiddling with the key that opened Taiga’s apartment.

“Okusawa Elementary happened.”

“Eh?” On returning, he glanced at Taiga’s back, relaxed frame of shoulders, and then at Haya’s flushed face, panting from the exertion of the squats someone (probably Retsu’s suggestion, remembering that the boy had started doing those in Club recently) had enforced her to do. Daiki walked towards her, crouched down to be at eye-level with her. “You okay, Haya-chan?”

Haya pouted. “Un,” then thinking better of her answer, leaned in conspiratorially to whisper into her father’s ear, “They bullied me when you weren’t here, _Tōchan_.”

Daiki gasped, covering his mouth, eyes widening. “Oh my gosh, that’s terrible, Haya-chan! Are you okay?” He exaggerated.

Haya giggled behind her hands.

Daiki smiled, tousling her hair. “So, what’s this I hear about your school.”

Instantly, whatever good mood the girl was in plummeted. She pursed her small lips, blinking, stiff. Just as quickly, Daiki gathered her into his arms and stood up, heading further into the apartment, closing the door after him. Taiga who had been watching the two from the reflection off the toaster in the beginning, trailed after their disappearance.

“So this happens often?” He tried to sound conversational, but Taiga was only fooling himself.

“As often as family events happen, I guess,” Tomo took the proffered bowls filled with food to the dining table, shrugging. “On some part, Oyaji knows Haya-chan is a boisterous big boy than the little princess he forces everyone she is not.” The youth stops at the table, placing the bowls down, and stares into the spread. “It makes for something to laugh at, I guess.”

“Hmm,” Taiga agrees. He sighs, figuring it was better to stop pretending, and removes the apron carefully, folding it in half and dropping it on the counter. “Well, she does have some princess qualities about her, that’s for sure.” He chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever bought so many desserts for something that was not a party.”

Tomo laughed. “Yea, usually we have to wait a month for the adults to rotate and get us desserts from that place. Their puddings are the best though.”

Taiga grinned, coming over. “I figured; it was the first one Haya listed out, of course.” The two shared another laugh. Retsu, hearing them, came back from wherever he had gone trotting a large bottle in his arms resting against his stomach. “Ah, that’s where you went.” Taiga took hold of the beer bottle. “Just—”

“Yea, yea,” Tomo cut in, “Don’t tell Oyaji.”

“Don’t tell me what?” Daiki wanted to know, trudging back with a suspiciously red-rimmed eyed Haya. He glanced at the bottle Taiga held in his hand. “Ha ha!” He proclaimed, pointing, “Couldn’t resist, could you!”

Taiga sputtered, “This is not what you think!”

“Yea, yea,” Daiki echoed, teeth bared in a large smile. “Of course. Now pour me a drink, quick; I’m hungry for some pudding!”

“No, you eat your meal first,” Taiga admonished, holding the beer away from Daiki’s outstretched arm, making the dark skinned police officer step in closer. Blue eyes held ruby eyes in check, lighting merrily as the former’s owner moved closer. Taiga took a step back, widening the distance, his heart shuddering in anticipation, throat tightening as he tried to speak, “Re-Retsu made dinner today, so—”

Daiki blinked, railroading their staring contest. “You should have said that first, idiot. No c’mon! Dinner’s getting cold!” Snapping his head in Tomo’s direction, he commanded, “Oi, brat, pour us some beer!”

Tomo scowled, but followed through. Taiga passed the bottle with a grimace. “Thanks, kid.”

“What does it take for someone’s name to be called around here?” The teenager griped.

“A less cheeky mouth, for one,” Daiki snarked, flicking Tomo’s forehead.

The boy glared harder.

“If there’s more foam in your beer, don’t blame me,” Tomo scowled to himself.

 

* * *

 

Later, after the meal, when the kids went for their desserts that Taiga had oh-so-generously bought the group (“Haya-chan, I don’t think you need another dessert today,” Retsu said, holding the box of cake far away. “No fair, Retsu- _ni_!” Haya wailed, bringing Daiki to smack Retsu upside the head.), Daiki sat shoulder to shoulder with Taiga at the dining table, watching his children squabble and pick at each other’s sweets, boisterously sitting before the television playing some adventitious anime or the other.

“So when do I get the new lock’s key?” Daiki haggled, narrowing his eyes at Taiga.

Never being able to lie properly, Taiga held his tongue flat against his upper palate, hoping against hope that he would not give away his own deceit. It had been an on-the-spur-of-the-moment fib, not knowing Daiki would fall for it, and now that he had to defend against the other conniving male, Taiga was finding it difficult to return the stare. He took a large gulp of his beer to forestall.

“What~, Taiga~,” Daiki cajoled. “I’ll safe keep your chastity and whatever it is that you’re so scared of for you.”

“What about my sanity?” Taiga mumbled. “You feel good about making me go insane, right?”

Daiki stares back face slack. Then, with a soft and slow smile, “It feels good, ya know,” Daiki confesses over the rim of his beer glass, “these past few months.”

Taiga scowled at him. “By way of mooching off me?”

Daiki laughed. “Yea, that too.” Grinning, he finished his drink, pushing the glass further away from him to not be tempted into asking Tomo to pour his second serving. “More like…we actually spend time together eating food, talking to each other, discussing things rather than fighting it out, telling Tomo to take care of his siblings over the phone and to finish their work before I come back.” Daiki sighs, rubbing his nose bridge, “I mean, I actually get to put the brats to sleep myself! And it’s been more than two months since I’ve needed to call my mother to come by, when I’ve been calling her every four days. You know how long that’s been?”

The rhetoric did not slip by Taiga. Mulling over the words, the redhead pensively stared into the remains of his own beer glass. “I don’t know what it’s like being a father or a parent, but,” he glanced at Daiki from under his bangs, “you have good sons.”

Daiki is nodding, pleased to hear the indirect praise, when he catches on to what Taiga was saying. “What about my Haya-chan?”

Taiga scoffs, polishing off his drink. “That just said it all.”

“Oi!” Daiki reaches over to smite the redhead, but all the while, the laughter bubbling in his chest does not disappear even in the next morning.

 

* * *

 

It was becoming so commonplace now that, dumping his t-shirt into his locker to free his hands, he picked up the vibrating phone flashing the saved name of the Elementary that Haya went to. “Yea?” He was too tired for pleasantries, especially to the little-people teacher who did not appreciate his manners no matter how nicely he smiled and spoke. And bowed. Scoffing internally, Taiga kept half a mind on the stammering woman, hoping she would end her sentence by the next few minutes; he had to clean up his equipment before he officially could sign out for the day, and see his bed.

“—so will you be able to come soon, Kagami-san?”

“Hmm?” He cranes his neck when one of his colleagues slaps his back with a farewell, so he grins instead, waving, before registering what the teacher is saying. “What? Why again?”

“Eh? Er…Momoi-san is unavailable, I tried, and Aomine-san’s mother lives too far for her to come immediately.” The unheard ‘ _Trust me, you were definitely my last option here!_ ’ passed subtly between the words. Taiga sighed, rubbing his face.

“Okay, I’ll be there in a bit.” Before ending the call and the teacher’s plight, he questioned, “Why does Haya need to be picked up, anyway? Is she sick?” Taiga was ignoring the twinge of concern he felt on his own thoughts.

The confused surprised expression in the teacher’s voice was palatable. “Did you not see the news, Kagami-san?” He did not have time to hold his breath. “Aomine-san is in a hold-up.”

 

* * *

 

When Daiki stepped into the darkened living room that night, exhausted beyond words, he was taken for another roll in the wringer when Taiga’s voice reached him.

"I heard you did not draw your gun.”

"Taiga," Daiki mumbled with a sigh of relief, arm dropping from where he tensed it at his hip, withdrawing his hand away from his phantom gun. "You freaking scared me."

"Oh?" Daiki watched as one thick eyebrow rose at an angle. "I thought you weren't scared of anything?"

The tone of voice was deceptive. Daiki licked his lips, staring blankly at the redhead still sitting at the kitchen island, unmoving from his perch. The pose did not look comfortable, but he figured Taiga was not there to be so. Shifting his weight to the other leg, Daiki sounded out a soft, "Hah?"

Taiga’s voice did not change its pitch. Daiki has heard the other shout, abuse, flounder and stutter, but never speak so calmly. "You know, you're a perfect shield, not worried about bullets flying at you, not worried about dying. That sort of thing. What’s a little boo in the dark compared to that, right?"

Daiki frowned.

Taiga got off, pushing the high stool back into place, straightening the childish table mats that Haya had recently made in school for them, and with calm measured paces, walked towards the front door.

"Taiga..." Daiki voiced out.

"What?" Taiga did not bother looking back or stopping. He was near the _genkan_ when Daiki reached over to grab his elbow, effectively jerking him to a halt.

“Hey things went well, why are your panties in a bunch?” He tried for humour, somewhere inside him knowing it would not ease the hard line the redhead’s shoulder was taking. In the small light of the passage, he saw Taiga’s neck twitch.

“What about the next time, huh?” Taiga glanced over when Daiki could not form words to respond. A derisive curve of his lips spoke louder than the fireman had the whole evening.

Daiki sighed, dragging a hand over his tired face. “Listen, I’ve already been called before the board for firing my gun without authorisation the last time, and I can’t afford to do that again. The case they were working almost fell apart because I hot-headedly went ahead and discharged my gun—” Daiki was rambling, the idea that even if he exhausted himself trying to explain the intricate working of the police department’s politics, Taiga would not understand.

Taiga, though, had figured that some sacrifices were better than others, and he wished Daiki realised what it was that he had put on the line this time. He remembered something from before, and shared it with the stubborn, egoistically-blinded man. “It's better to be judged by twelve than to be carried by six.”

Daiki’s spiel ran aground at the words; Taiga could tell he did not get what he meant.

Sighing, Taiga rubbed his face. “The jury, you ass. And the coffin carriers. Sometimes I wonder how you became a police officer.”

Daiki shrugged. “They needed handsome men in their boring uniforms?”

The grim lip line twitched before it split wide open and he could not hold back the absurd laugh.

“Idiot.”

Daiki grinned, glad to find the other smiling again, shoulders relaxed; it made the tingling of his nerves calm down enough, and so he walked closer to the other. A mere two feet between them, Daiki relaxed his stance by hunching as he pocketed his hands. “Thanks,” he started, “for worrying, and for taking care of the kids.”

Taiga waved it off. “What’s one night compared to all the others, right?” The sardonic response just made Daiki’s smile stretch, showing two rows of white teeth in the dark. Taiga grasped the door handle, pushing it down and tugging it towards him, night time greetings at the tip of his tongue waiting to be muttered in askance before they are swallowed rather abruptly.

No, more like pushed back into his mouth by something hot and thick, and _moving_.

Unable to react, Taiga blinks wide-eyed, his sight focusing back slowly as Daiki’s head moves away from his face, thin eyebrows meeting in a concerned furrow. Which, Taiga believed, was absolutely absurd if he understood what just happened because it was _Daiki_ that initiated the totally unneeded intimate expression (an expression Taiga will not name for obvious distressing reasons), and it is Taiga that should look the concerned party of the two. Surprisingly— _or is it uncalled for?_ —Taiga is not adverse to the action. In fact, it was because he was not adverse to it (and _is it showing on my face somewhere?_ Was there an arrow pointing because he seriously wanted to see one right about now, but no, life does not work that way for him, _Daiki that lucky bastard_ ), that Daiki leaned in towards him again, lips descending just as quickly and softly as it did the first time.

On this retake, however, Taiga reacted: his unoccupied hand reached up to clutch the back of Daiki’s head, holding it in place, as he moved adjacent to the other man, allowing the intimate expression he was not naming to deepen in act. A needy moan filtered through, from which of the two, Taiga does not care. It fills the negligible space between them, rising up the heat to warm the cold air seeping through the slit under the front door. Taiga can feel the draft, ankles prickling at the temperature, though his face and neck are the total opposite of that cold shiver. Daiki darts a hand to Taiga’s chest, gripping the soft wool of his pullover top, tugging closer to his towering form from the step of the _genkan_ , and Taiga followed, craning his neck to get more of the other male. Another sound, made in between their mouths, was quickly preceded by a few more, until one did not fit the apparent forming sequence.

It seemed Taiga was not the only one aware of it in the darkened passage. They broke apart, panting slightly, and Daiki licked his lips while turning to look over his shoulder. Taiga was glad the man was facing away at this point because then he had a feeling Daiki would make fun of the current expression he is sure his face was sporting. Schooling his facial muscles, Taiga too looks down the hallway.

A light pools softly beneath one of the doors—a door he recognises as the children’s—and Tomo slips out with a frown not dissimilar to Daiki’s. “Oyaji?” The teenager half-mumbles-half-grumbles in sleep, “You’re back?”

“Hey, brat,” Daiki releases Taiga’s sweater, arm dropping to his side as he straightens his back, remaining perpendicular to the two of them. Taiga can see Tomo, eyes blinking tiredly as his vision clears.

“Hmm,” Tomo sounds, eyes tracing his father’s form similarly to what Taiga had done few minutes earlier. Then those sharp eyes dart towards Taiga, considering. “Thanks for staying, Kagami-san. _Oyasumi_ ,” he bends his head awkwardly in greeting, and Taiga can tell that the hand rubbing at his face is a farce; the boy probably saw the tonsil hockey his father and him were just partaking in.

Face suddenly aflame, Taiga stammers out a reply. With a passing glance at Daiki, Taiga stumbles out of the Aomine home. Outside, he silently leans on the door, steadying his legs and breathing despite him needing to take only two large steps to get to his own haven.

“Fuck.”

 

* * *

 

 

 **Author’s End Note:** Well…hope I did something right. Orz.


	5. Contenting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Deciding against what he really wanted to do to the very enticing father, the police officer’s kids are something Taiga has to deal with first. However, nothing prepared him for this. Nothing.**

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:** Sorry for the long wait!

Hope you enjoy more of Aomine’s minions taking over poor Kagami’s life (and how he’s secretly starting to let them steamroll it)! XD

 

**Warnings:**

Language—expletives and my bad grammar and the excessive use of "so", that is—as usual.

 

* * *

 

Someone who hated him must have voted for his presence up in the colder region, where mountain peaks littered the scenery and took over the sky. Taiga blearily makes notes in his head about the various items he has to find in his home, what he would potentially have to end up buying, and what food he should make and freeze for the Aomines.

For a second, he stalls in the cereal isle of the grocers, blinking at the thoughts in his head. Before last night, he would have internally cringed at including the Aomines in any of his plans, but after one—or maybe it was two and a half—kiss, Taiga was smoothly integrating the four difficult people into his schedule.

He glances at the cart he was pushing, mentally checking off the list he no longer had to write down: sweet potato _senbei_ crackers for Tomo, tetra juice packets ( _only 100% real fruit, Kaga-chan!_ ), the new chocolate-flavoured energy bars that were on sale for Retsu, PrimeTime magazine for Daiki, tissue rolls for him. He was already living a life where Taiga was the wife who made sure that all their needs were met. Somewhere in his head, though, he was still blushing at the thought of calling the father ‘Daiki’, his heart still beating louder than necessary, harsher than required in his ribcage.

“ _—the time sale will start at 4 o’clock. Dear valued customers, the time sale will start at 4 o’clock._ ” Taiga glanced up even though he would not see the speaker, shrugging out of his thoughts, heading to the produce section. He had been idling around waiting for the time sale because he could buy the pork and fish they had on display, knowing he would have to stop by the next grocers for his other meat necessities; the joys of having a ravenous family joined to his own bottomless pit.

Some forty minutes later, Taiga heads back to the apartment complex, walking slower than he would have, not because of the bags weighing him down, but because he can see the familiar narrow shoulders of a teenager. A teenager who had indubitably seen his father kiss a man— _him_ —at their doorway. In the dark. Just thinking about it was making Taiga blush, but he knew he would not be able to hide his face or refrain from speaking to Tomo completely. Despite the change of the playing field between Daiki and him, nothing really changed between the children and Taiga.

“Tomo!” He sent a prayer to the gods and willed his crazily pounding heart to calm down; _he’s a teenager to your fucking grown ass!_ “No club today?”

Tomo invariably stiffened for a short second, but it was long enough for Taiga to see. His knees buckled in response, before he forced himself to go on, walking in tandem with the boy. Tomo took a while to glance up, nodding his head, voice quietly greeting him.

Taiga tried to grin back comfortingly, but did not know if he succeeded. Tomo had already turned to face the front. They walked a short distance without words, before Tomo replied. “We have exams soon, so clubs are on break.” The boy glanced between them. “Could I help you?”

Taiga blinked. “Oh, sure, if you want!” They paused on the road, hands exchanging grocery bags, before they started back on the way. “What about Retsu? Don’t you guys normally get back together?”

Tomo nodded. “He’s stopping by the baseball diamonds though, because he didn’t get to play basketball today.”

“Baseball?” Taiga mused. “He hasn’t said anything about it before.”

A soft laugh greeted his statement. Tomo ducks his head as he walks. “Yea, he…he can play other sports just fine.”

Taiga senses some discomfort, but he cannot put his finger on it. It may have to do with him, but it could also do with a lot of other things. They are nearing the complex when Taiga genially asks, “You don’t play anything besides basketball?”

Tomo shakes his head. “Nah, I, er…don’t think I can ever play anything but basketball.”

“You don’t think?”

It was then that Tomo glances up at him, eyes wide, mouth parting open as though to say something, but then he bottles up again, turning to the front. Taiga wants to cajole him, hear him out—has he not been the boy’s support in so many other things?—but Tomo picks up speed as casually as possible, and Taiga just finds him following suit. They do not bring it up again.

 

* * *

 

Things continue to be weird with Tomo for the next two weeks.

Taiga brushes it off his mind with the thought that the teenager had exams which were more important, and tiptoeing around the fact that Daiki invades his space when the kids are nowhere around. It makes it all the more difficult when Daiki does not do more than that—annoy him, keeping him on edge for when the next surprise attack to his lips would be—and Taiga finds himself more ashamed than not when he realises this.

So he plays it safe and tells the family to drop by his place for meals, because that is the only time Tomo remains near the kitchen counter, doing homework and studying. Retsu has to be wrestled with in order to even look at his books, but Taiga has successfully found a manner to get him to it without lifting a finger.

“No dessert,” he says once, and Daiki scoffs out a ‘ _That’s really not going to stop the brat, ya know_ ’ before adding, “And when I pass by the baseball fields, I’ll shout out embarrassing things you do at home.”

Retsu and Daiki produce the most horrified expression, clutching each other in shock. “Noo! Why would you do something so cruel?!”

“Taiga! That’s horrendous! Don’t bully my child!”

Taiga snorts, balled fists on his hips. Beside him, Tomo is futilely holding back his chortles. “Your child will become as dumb as you are if you don’t encourage him to study now.”

Daiki clicked his tongue. “I’m not dumb, you moron!”

Retsu immediately lets his father go and scampers to his seat, pulling his books closer. Tomo watches, calming down, and Taiga beams at him, if not a little confused. “Sorry, _Tōchan_ , but I need to study.” The boy pauses long enough to bat puppy-dog eyes at Taiga, asking, “Will I get dessert after this?”

“After finishing your homework,” Taiga agrees. “But then you still have to study until you go for your bath.” Retsu nods enthusiastically.

“Hey dad,” Tomo calls out, the tone deceptively mocking, “I think Retsu just agreed that you were dumb and he doesn’t want to follow in your footsteps.”

Simultaneously, Daiki and Retsu speak: “No he didn’t!” “Of course!”

Daiki glared at Retsu from where he remained on the floor, Haya ignoring everything behind her as she strained in her father’s grasp to get closer to the TV; she had been complaining about headaches, and Taiga had blamed Daiki’s lack of control on distancing her form the stupid box.

“Retsu, no dessert!”

“But Kagami-san is giving me some, _Tōchan_! He even said so!” Retsu whined.

Taiga grinned triumphantly when Daiki groused out, “Freaking traitor! You’re my son!”

 

* * *

 

Later that same night, when the kids were trudging after each other in a makeshift line, Daiki hovers back at the _genkan_ , Taiga not stopping him. When the Aomine family’s door clicks shut, Daiki turns to face him, and Taiga feels his face heating up at the intensity of the other male’s stare.

“Yo,” Daiki leers at him.

“Shut up,” he gripes, staring down at his bare toes against his floor.

Daiki chuckles, warm, and moves closer, and again Taiga hates how Daiki only does that. Was he being played, he does not know, because Daiki initiate or abort anything. He glances up into blue eyes and stares back defiantly, urging the other to act.

“You know…” Daiki says rather conversationally for the situation, “I’m sure you kissed me back the other night.”

Taiga glared at him. “Of course I did, you idiot.”

Ignoring the insult, Daiki leans a little more, and they almost share the air near their faces. “So why aren’t you doing anything now?”

He pulled his lips together into a thin line mutinously, moving his head back. Daiki’s forehead furrow appear instantly, annoyed, and he was opening his mouth to say something to that affect, but that was when Taiga moved in. tilting his head to one side, he softly tried to touch their mouths first, before bracing the other’s head, assertively responded to the two weeks of inaction between the first few kisses and now.

Drawing back for air and stilted chuckles, Daiki thumbs away the trail of saliva from his lips. “So aggressive, Tiger,” he only manages to say before Taiga is pushing him against his door and taking away what little breath Daiki managed to take in before being attacked again.

“Don’t make fun of me, asshole,” Taiga nips at his lips, panting with Daiki when he breaks their kiss. “You can’t just—kiss me the first time and then do nothing the next time.”

Daiki keeps quiet, eyes closed, head resting on the door. “I wasn’t making fun of you.”

“Then what was that, huh?”

“I don’t know,” Daiki snapped, finally looking at him, stare heated. “What about you, huh? Why didn’t _you_ do anything?”

Taiga frowned. “Daiki…I’m not the one with the kids.” Daiki drew in a shuddering breath, as if punched, but Taiga bulldozed through without letting him get the wrong idea. “I mean, I can obviously just push you against a wall and get what I want, but you’re a father, you asswipe, and you have more on your plate than I do.” He paused, remembering the thoughts he had for the past two weeks churning in his head. He was finally getting to say it. “Tomo already…he doesn’t really talk to me after that night.”

Daiki stiffens. “What…?”

Taiga nodded. Sighing, he brings a hand to his hair, tousling it in frustration. “God, before this, I didn’t even give a shit about kids. Now look at me,” he tries to turn away, step back into his house, but a firm grip around his wrist stops him. Taiga glances down on reflex—no one really went for his hands like that, only Retsu and Haya—but the firmness of the hold makes all his worries fly out the window. Then Daiki does something even more unbelievable.

Tentatively, with shaking fingers, he releases Taiga’s wrist and slips down to his hand, curling and twining their fingers together.

It seems like a whole lifetime passes before either one says anything.

“I don’t even know what this is,” Daiki speaks quieter than Taiga has heard him, “But I don’t wanna let it go before I do.”

He can understand, and he tightens his hand in Daiki’s. “Yea,” he says, nodding, “Yea, I get it.”

And the smile Daiki uses then makes Taiga want to kiss him again.

So he does.

 

* * *

 

“You go to an even colder place that here for a break? How does that even make sense?”

“Eh?” Retsu’s sweet look of confusion made Taiga feel foolish to even ask. “Well…doesn’t it make you feel better when you come back and it’s not as cold as it was in the mountains?” The boy crawls closer, chin now heavily placed on Taiga’s muscled thigh, blinking soulful brown eyes up at him. “ _Tōchan_ used to say we never complained when we came back home after a trip to the mountain side, so every year, he takes us there for the break.”

“I’m actually more surprised he makes time for that,” Taiga mumbles out.

Retsu laughs. “Yea! _Bachan_ says the same. She’s too old to come with us now, but before, when—” Retsu freezes for a second, then continues as if he had never stopped, “—Haya was not born, we used to go as a whole big family. But its better this way!”

Taiga knew a boldfaced lie when he saw it, but he also knew that somewhere down the years, Retsu was appreciating the family tradition for what it was worth. He ruffled the dark hair, smiling, “Well, then it makes it easier for me to let you guys know that I won’t be here at the end of the year.”

Retsu hums in understanding. “Visiting relatives?”

Taiga shakes his head, lips slightly strained, “Not quite.” Tomo had finished cleaning up the kitchen space, wiping down the dining table before leisurely throwing the rag back into the kitchen, uncaring where it landed—not that it ever landed anywhere but in the sink, but Taiga almost unceremoniously rectified that—heading into his room. When he returned, clutching a pile of his workbooks, he continues his conversation, “I’ll be away for work. It’s…” He does not know what to start with, the length of his stay or the distance of it. What he did know was the absolute devastation that would be plastered on Retsu’s face when he does find out. So Taiga rests a palm on the boy’s head, mussing it gently as he said, “It’s going to be for about a few months, and it’s all the way in Hokkaidō.”

Both Tomo and Retsu exchange glances. “Do you know where?”

Taiga shrugs. “They’re only going to let me know a week or so before. It’s not only me they have to take care of, you know.”

Retsu’s nod is a little stiff, as though trying to show he understands but clearly wanting to deny the leave of absence. Taiga, for some unfathomable reason, cannot explain why it hurts him to see Retsu having difficulty in letting him go. Tomo, on the other hand, has not moved. From where he sat, there is almost an ocean space between them at the moment.

Retsu starts speaking, trying to get the tense and uncomfortable atmosphere to what it had been before, but Tomo derails his thought with a simple, “Is it because of me?”

Taiga’s heart lurches, not because of the blank tone, but the face Tomo wears.

It is a face that says ‘ _I killed the neighbour and hid his body, now what to do?_ ’

It is a face that tells Taiga to get off his ass, push Retsu gently away, and go and hug the daylights out of Tomo who does not even realise he is silently crying until there Taiga is, brushing away the hot wet trails. Beautiful eyes blurred by excess moisture blink behind glasses up at Taiga, confused, and then shaky hands reach up to wipe away the embarrassing emotion. “Sorry, I—I didn’t even— Forget I even said,” now fumbling over his words, unlike his usual snobbish disposition; Taiga crushes the teen into his wide chest, and for a second, the boy struggles to psuh away before taking one heaving breath and starts crying, clutching at Taiga like he does not want to let go.

“Sorry!” He cries, loud and long, wailing, hiccupping and doing things Taiga actually cannot stand with children, but Tomo right now, right now Taiga cannot think of anything that is more heart-wrenching than the child in his arms. “I’m sorry, Kagami-san!”

Taiga hushes the teenager like he has seen so many people in his life do, calmly swaying from side to side, rubbing large circles on the dwarfing back under his palms. Tomo cries some more and Taiga does not stop him, letting the past weeks’ worth of frustration to be spent.

“Sorry,” Tomo mumbles finally, stilling in Taiga’s embrace, thin arms snaked around his torso while small slender hands clutch at the fabric of his t-shirt.

“I should be the one apologising,” Taiga says instead, bending enough to drop his chin on his head. “I’m sorry, Tomo.”

Tomo shakes his head. “Why are you—”

“I know you saw us that night,” he decides to confess what had been troubling him too. Tomo was lucky that he was still a child, able to react to his confusion, unlike Taiga who had to sit on the edge of his seat, waiting for the inevitable earthquake to bring his life apart. In his arms, the sluggish teen instantly stiffens, though remains in the comfort offered to him. “I know you must be confused out of your mind and probably feel like your father betrayed you or something…” and then Taiga’s brain goes silent and there are no words to complete his thought. What does one say in this situation anyway?

Tomo tightens his grip on his shirt, breathing in deeply. “I’m not feeling betrayed,” were the first words Taiga hears, and a little—okay, who is he lying to, he was feeling a tonne—shocked, drops his jaw. He is glad no one is facing him. “And I’m not confused.”

Which technically did not explain Tomo’s attitude at all, and that was where Taiga was having a mental breakdown. “Then what is it?”

Tomo shakes his head, stubborn. Taiga sighs, realising that no matter how much he wished it, but the kids were all showcasing Daiki’s bad habits.

“ _Niichan_?” Retsu finally interrupts from behind them, voice sounding scared. Taiga turns, automatically letting go of Tomo’s back, but the teenager refuses to let him go, again mulishly holding on with his face stuck into Taiga’s chest. Over Tomo’s dark blue hair, Taiga catches Retsu’s eyes, shrugging. Retsu frowns, coming closer, and tugging at his brother’s shirt. “What happened, Tomo-nii?”

But Tomo refuses to show his face.

“Tomo, it’s alright, you know,” Taiga cajoles, speaking in a sweeter voice than he knows he has. “You can tell me anything.”

And then, because the world liked to laugh at his plight, an intensely blushing Tomo moves away, eyes downcast, and says, “Why does it always have to be _Oyaji_?!”

It takes a moment for the words to register and then another for Taiga to fail to respond.

And then another for his eyes to roll heavenwards.

This was not how Taiga expected things to end.

 

* * *

 

**Author’s End Notes:** Teenagers! *rolls eyes*

It feels a little short (despite it being the same length of the other chapters...) but now instead of 6 parts, I've had to extend it to 7 parts.

 

Any comments/suggestions/criticism? :)

 


	6. What Would Be The Perfect Interlude?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Taiga is suspiciously a worrier behind that horrendous scowl.**

* * *

 

**Author’s Note:**

So…what should have been a short thing, ended up becoming a monster connection piece.

I just realised I have some more time for winter break in the story line. OTL.

Either way, this chapter seems a little rougher than usual, so I might edit it later.

Hope you enjoy it for now, though! :D

 

* * *

 

 

"Father told me to bring my own dishes," Taiga was greeted with when he pushed the door open. Tomo's stoic face remained unmoving. "So I brought them. Chopsticks too," he raised his hands, snapping the utensils that were already poised for eating.

It all felt too surreal. Not for the first time did Taiga wonder if telling Daiki about ‘The Incident’ with Tomo made the elder Aomine's sadistic streak show. Ever since then, the man sent his son on errands to Taiga, teased the hell out of the teenager, requested backup from the younger siblings who were all the more happy to help. Haya's take on it was “ _Nii-chan_ , but I'm marrying Kaga-chan!” Tomo had unfortunately rolled his eyes while she was still looking and since then, Cold War II commenced.

Retsu was a little different, though.

He edged away from them all, smiling awkwardly, and only initiated anything when Daiki asked him to, rather begrudgingly. Taiga wouldn't blame the poor thing, but there was something else bothering the preteen and no one was bothering to check up on him.

So against his better judgement, he decided to be the one.

"Retsu, wanna go shoot some hoops later?" He asked in the morning, leaning against his door jamb, watching the morning ducklings trail their father to school, Retsu as usual taking up the rear.

Brown eyes widened, shaking off the sleep still lingering, and stared at him. For a second, Taiga felt a bit uncomfortable, shrugging his shoulders and crossing his arms against his chest. Then grinning so wide—like he was used to—Retsu’s whole aura changed. He bounced on the pivot of his heels, gripping his school-issued bag tightly, and Taiga grinned back.

 

* * *

 

_> >The kids are going to be out with their aunt today, so do you want to get a beer with me?_

The phone weighed both heavy and light in the same instance as Taiga read the text message. The little envelope on the top now had its flap open; now he couldn't unread it, so he was stuck mulling on the right answer.

Technically, Daiki was pissed at him.

Two days ago, he had informed him about the short-term transfer, and witnessed the most harried look the father had ever shown him. Taiga didn't know what it entailed. Was the other despondent because their cook was leaving? Or that Daiki was short a convenient babysitter? Or did the man _really_ care about Taiga at all?

Because the look spoke volumes on how Daiki grimaced at the thought of Taiga not being around and definitely not even a smidgen heartbroken.

Granted, Taiga had no clue about what heartbreak was, counting the two one-night stands he had in all his years, and maybe there was that hot make-out sess—he shakes his head, glaring at the phone screen like it would combust and do away with his problem.

Then remembered. With narrow eyes, he studiously typed out a reply. _You sure? ‘cos Retsu is with me…_

As he sent the message, the brown hair flopping all over the head of the preteen came into view, cuddling two cans that he had bought—with Taiga’s money, of course—against his chest, the wide grin from the money seemingly still present. Idly, Taiga bounced the outdoor basketball he had recently filled the air of, but the summons to the Fire Chief’s office had put the use of the ball to the back of his mind. He is somewhat glad that he would use the ball, even if it meant that he had to hold back around 95% being the adult he was.

And it was cruel to laugh at a child.

Or so most of the people at the firehouse remind him.

“Kagami-san~!” Retsu laughs mirthfully, holding out the hot coffee can. He takes a seat on the only bench in the outdoor court, humming to himself as he pulls back the tab on his own can, taking a cautious sip after blowing through the opening.

Taiga’s phone vibrates in his hand and he his smile inches back to a frown when he turns his sight from Retsu.

_> >What?! Tell that idiot son of mine to go to Satsuki now, or he’s grounded to the inch of his lifespan!_

The frown deepened unconsciously. << _What does that even mean?_ But Taiga did not even bother informing Retsu about his upcoming grounding. Instead, slipping the phone back into his bag, he opened his can and drowned the whole thing in one gulp. “Retsu, I hope you’re ready for a smacking!”

Retsu’s laugh was high and loud, eyes crinkled shut. The sound was near angelic. “Kagami-san, don’t joke too much or I’ll start believing you!” The smile narrowed sharply in challenge. “I’m going to be nice and won’t beat you in five minutes.”

Licking his lips, the blood coursing through his veins was boiling. The cooling weather had no effect on his skin and it was such a shame. “ _I’m_ going to be nice and won’t let you win in 30 minutes, Retsu.”

The two remained grinning at each other, not moving a muscle. The crisp autumn wind played with Retsu’s long tresses, and Taiga made a mental note to get that boy to trim his hair, before the sound—a clang on the fence by the stick a running child was hitting it with, the mother raising her voice so that her child heard her over the sound of the cyclist’s bell, the horn of the impatient driver—made Retsu swoop in for the ball Taiga had been bouncing again.

Taiga would give it to the kid: he was fast. But years of playing and honing his skill, building muscles and reflexes that could react at the drop of a hat, was nothing compared to the lithe build of a preteen who had yet to break his voice even if his growth spurt had already started. In what seemed like two bounds, Taiga was already at the hoop, smacking away what would have been a perfectly executed layup. The round eyes staring up at him definitely showed to be thinking the same.

“Lucky block,” Retsu forced out, swivelling to capture the ball again. He tried to dive forward, this time aiming for a fadeaway when he sees Taiga coming towards him. His form is perfectly graced, smooth bow and smooth wrist flick, but that does not stop Taiga from blocking it easily. Retsu’s mouth is unhinged.

“Not bad,” Taiga praises, bouncing the ball before dribbling it towards the hoop and letting it go in a simple layup. When he turns to face Retsu, he pauses. “What?”

“I’ll get you this time!” Retsu dashes to the abandoned rolling ball, tapping it hard so that it bounces into his palm and dribbles around the 12-foot key, glancing over his shoulder at the defending stance Taiga maintained. The boy drives in quickly, side-steps away and fakes his direction twice to throw Taiga off. Taiga follows each moment like a beast starved, and when Retsu releases the ball from his fingers as quickly as he can to swat Taiga’s blocking, he stares with wide eyes as the ball is held in a vice grip in the air.

Taiga is expecting a holler and the ‘ _Not fair!_ ’ spiel, but is irrevocably surprised when Retsu’s eyes are shinning something fierce.

“Only _Tōchan_ has ever done something like that!” Taiga blinks, trailing along the pointing finger at the ball in his hand. “I mean, wait, that’s not fair! You’re too tall!”

Taiga chuckles. “Well, you know what they say about fighting a giant,” Retsu’s _‘You’re not a giant!’_ was ignored, and he walks out of the key himself, faces the hoop and then charges, all the while saying, “You need to cut off their legs!” And he dunks the ball grandly after the free throw line.

“You flew!” was what Retsu decides to come back with, eyes near popping. “You really flew!”

Taiga laughs, ignoring the ball, coming forward to the boy and messing up his hair. “You’ll fly soon, too.” Retsu grins, cheeks spread far on his face to accommodate the large smile, and his eyes look mistier than they should for something small like Taiga’s words.

“Un!”

“C’mon, I still need to beat you for the rest of the 30 minutes!” Taiga really was not acting like the adult he was supposed to be. But looking at the eager face of Retsu, maybe showing off was not so bad after all.

 

* * *

 

Daiki scowled ferociously at him when the elevator doors pulled apart.

Taiga hardly had time to blink before the bags the other man was carrying was being pushed into his chest, allowing Retsu to jump into his father’s arms uninterrupted. “ _Tōchan!_ ”

“Brat, weren’t you supposed to be with Satsuki today?” Retsu blinked innocent eyes up at him.

“Ehh~! But Satsuki- _bachan_ said it was okay to remain back with Kagami-san. And she said you didn’t mind either!”

The narrowing of steel blue eyes could have cut through mountains, so Taiga busied himself with checking out the extra baggage in his arms. “Oh!” The large beer bottle sloshed in its dark glass container, a film of condensation from its surface transferring to the insides of the bag. Besides the liquor store bag was a take-out carrier. “Chinese tonight!”

Retsu crowed happily, pushing away from Daiki to peer into the bags Taiga held. He ducked down a bit to show him, before a clearing of a throat behind them startled the two. “Ah,” Taiga dropped his head in an apologetic stance at the middle-aged man they were obstructing the way of, “Sorry.” He moved, pulling Retsu along with an arm in front of the boy’s shoulders, clearing the path, plastic bags one of the two sounds in the lobby. The man nodded in gratitude, heading forward again before holding his breath as he tried not to shake too much under Daiki’s stare. Both Taiga and Retsu pursed their lips, keeping laughter in their cheeks when the man breathed an obvious sigh of relief as Daiki stepped off the elevator.

“ _Tōchan_ , you’re scaring the neighbours again!” Retsu nudged his father’s hard abdomen. Daiki did not even grunt at the action, though the only acknowledgement he gave that he heard was a glance at him.

“The only neighbour I’m concerned about is this one, right here,” Daiki murmured. He stepped too close for Taiga’s comfort, toe-to-toe. The cold blue flames licking at him from Daiki’s stare was making cold sweat gather at the base of his hairline, and light shivers traversed the length of his back. “Or is it, soon-to-be-ex-neighbour?”

Taiga was sure he rolled his eyes—distantly copying Tomo—but the scoff was something he purposely let loose, loud and clear. “Yea, yea, move it. The food will get cold.”

Retsu, at the side, pushed the up arrow button for the elevator, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the next, eyes darting back and forth. Taiga dropped one palm on his head, mussing it carefully, curling the long strands with his thick fingers. “You need a haircut, Retsu.” The boy ducked his head, hiding the blush on his face, nodding in silent agreement. Daiki popped his head over Taiga’s shoulder, watching the fingers play with the brown hair.

“See? Even this oaf can see that you need one!” Daiki groused, chin digging into Taiga’s clavicle as he spoke. Taiga turned to face his cheek, nose brushing the angular face, and Daiki’s blues shot at his from the side, unmoving. The elevator dinged, crunching gears as the doors pulled apart again, Retsu dancing across the diving space. The two disentangled themselves, Taiga following Retsu in a sedately pace, Daiki taking too wide a step inside. Feeling crowded upon again, Taiga moved further back, leaving Retsu to chatter to himself, pushing at the buttons on the panel. Before he could try sending the elevator to any extra floor, he clasps his hand around Retsu’s tiny wrist.

They reach their floor without incident, though Retsu talked his father’s ears off for getting Kung Pao again _because you should remember some other chicken dish’s name sometime this year, Tōchan, mou_ and they walk up to their side of the floor. Here, Taiga hesitates.

“I left my keys at my desk,” and so Taiga sighs, shaking his head, and Retsu teases his father even more.

“You should tie it on a string in your bag, _Tōchan_ ,” the boy sniggers, shoulders up to his ears in mirth, heading over to the kitchen first, carrying the bags inside. Taiga is on his knees, pulling out the guest slippers for Daiki, and almost throws the man for putting one leg in his lap. The foot slides forward, all the way up to the top of his thigh before Taiga grasps his ankle firmly. “Oh wait! You might leave your bag like you do sometimes, so just put it around your neck!” Retsu’s laugh is contagious.

“Shut your trap or I’ll be putting one without a key around your neck,” Daiki tells him. Retsu just continues to laugh, no doubt imaging his father with a key string around his neck.

“It’s okay, _Tōchan_ …we understand,” the sounds of plates being piled up on the counter, the cutlery drawers opening and shutting, the plastic bag crinkling, Daiki’s foot straining against Taiga’s hand, blue eyes staring down at him, “You’re getting so old—”

“Finish that statement,” Daiki promises, dark, “And you’ll be spending winter break with your grandmother.” An audible sound of teeth clicking together follows his statement. “That’s a good boy, Retsu.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Taiga finally mumbles, forcibly making the foot in his hand wear the right slipper, and dropping the appendage astride. He pushes the second one into Daiki’s chest as he gets back onto his feet, dusting his hands. “Retsu, is there anything to watch on TV?”

“Nah, there’s only the taiga drama going on tonight, and Haya’s anime, which we’re not going to watch!” The resolution is met firmly by nods of head all around as Daiki enters the living area. “Is there something you wanna watch, Kagami-san?”

“Hmm,” he helps the preteen carry the food and dishes onto the dining table, setting it up, and Retsu being excused, heads over to the remote controls. “I think there should be some college match going on...”

Retsu perks up. “Sports?”

Puzzled, Taiga questions, “What else?” The boy instantly deflates.

“Well, you could have been interested in chess or something…” Retsu flicks between channels quickly, Taiga always impressed by the speed he does it in without losing focus. “Anyway,” he speaks, seeing as his father is opening his mouth to say something, “There’s association football, a rerun of the _Kōshien_ I think, and there’s sumo going on.”

“No basketball?” Daiki pushes in, draped on Taiga’s only two seater, long legs trailing over the hand rest. He toes his son from where the boy stood, eagerly trying to find their evening’s entertainment.

“We played basketball today,” Retsu dismisses, moving away. The prodding leg stills.

“You…played basketball…today,” Daiki reiterates. Taiga, from the set dining table, watches the interaction. “With whom?”

Retsu does not stop surfing channels. “With Kagami-san.” The leg comes to prod him again. “Rude,” he says, batting it away.

“No, you’re rude,” Daiki quips, leaning against his elbows. “You don’t play with me but you play with Taiga? That’s rude!”

Retsu snorts. “ _Tōchan_ …you’re a mean player! Always laughing at me! Who wants to play with you?”

Daiki clicks his tongue, facing away. “Tomo wants to play,” he counters mockingly. Taiga is smirking at his tone and attitude, and on principle waits for Retsu’s comeback. But the boy keeps quiet, shoulders tight together from where he stands.

“Tomo- _nii_ will always ask you to play,” Retsu settles for a basketball game dispassionately, places the remote on the coffee table, and moves back to the dining area. He patiently waits for his father to get up and join them. Daiki, however, looks as though he has fallen asleep.

“Daiki?”

A grunt answers his concern. Flopping lazily upright, dragging his torso forward and up, Daiki joins them with drowsy eyes. Taiga glances away from the show at his plate but does not serve himself. It is the same conversation that Tomo never continues. Sweeping his eyes to where the teenager normally resides to his left, a pang twinges his chest at seeing it empty.

“Miss your ardent admirer?” Daiki’s low voice cuts in.

Serving himself, Taiga scowled, “I’m surprised you know such big words, Aomine-san.”

Daiki bites the tips of his chopsticks, Retsu frowning at how he gets away from doing things he gets shouted at for, and waggles his eyebrows. “You’re not denying it.”

Before Taiga can smack the man’s face away, the doorbell rings. Retsu edges up, blinking rapidly. “Landlord?”

“I’ve learned not to make that mistake,” Taiga responds flatly. Retsu does not understand the pain behind his words, so he hesitates to move. “Go on, go on. Just be careful.” The boy nods, sprinting quickly to the door.

“Who might that be~?” Retsu calls out politely. It is a wonder the boy knows how when his father sits at the dining table stealing food from Taiga’s plate. They fight with their chopsticks over a pot sticker, and the innocent morsel slides around the smooth surface of the plate. The basketball match is mindless background noise to their real time battle, and Taiga ends up swearing when Daiki uses his fingers to pick it up and pop it into his widely leering mouth. Retsu’s laugh at the doorway makes Taiga pause in shoving his chopsticks into Daiki’s eye sockets.

“Why can’t the two of you eat properly?” Daiki scowls first at Taiga then brightens up at Tomo who appears behind Taiga. He is pulling off the sweater he wore, draping it on one arm, holding Haya’s collar so that she did not run to the TV first. “You’re being bad examples.”

“The Ardent Admirer!” Daiki crows. Tomo’s eyebrows dip down. Taiga shakes the man up a little more.

“When did it become a title?”

“Words you don’t know the meaning of, as usual,” Tomo brushes off, picking lint off his sweater. Retsu asks if they want to eat, but he shakes his head. “We ate before coming.” Looking down at his sister, he asks, “Where’s your greeting?”

“I’m home!” She cries, still struggling. There is a choir of responses and a mess of emotions as father and daughter reunite and part, Haya making a beeline to the TV, immediately changing channels.

Tomo heads to the kitchen, taking out another glass and bringing it to the table. He takes his usual seat, bemused at the winning smile he receives from Taiga. “What is it?”

Taiga shakes his head, continuing to eat.

“So ardent admirer,” Daiki teases, looming over his abandoned plate of food, “Couldn’t stay one night away from him, eh?”

Tomo does a perfect rendition of the rolling-my-eyes-at-your-stupidity-excuse-me-for-a-moment. “Covetous of the fact that Kagami-san at least knows where I stand and not where you do?” He ends the scorn with a push of his glasses.

Daiki’s lips twitch downwards. “Big words you’re using there,” Taiga snorts at being ripped off, “Be careful you don’t hurt yourself.”

The smile Tomo passes behind the sip of water he takes chills those watching. Retsu is quickly shovelling food in his mouth, wanting to torture himself with Haya’s anime than sit between the three of them. “Ara? Where was the big word again?” The glass is placed down carefully.

“Brat…” Daiki hisses out.

Taiga chokes on his food when he starts to laugh, tearing up. Tomo tries to help him while Daiki mutters darkly, “Yea, yea, die, you lover boy.”

“God, you got shown up by your teenage son, _aho_!” And the evening went downhill from there.

 

* * *

 

 

Daiki closes the door of his apartment, fingering the keychain that Taiga had used for it, absently smiling. He heads back to Taiga’s , slipping off his shoes and padding with socked feet to where the owner was. Taiga remained splayed out on the single seat sofa, head leaned backwards, eyes shuttered, TV still on the kids’ channel they had been watching. It takes a while for Daiki to find the remote—nudged in between the sofa cushions—and when the silence descends them, he moves towards the redhead. He cards his fingers lightly through the short strands, fingertips brushing against skin and scalp, before he reaches to place a kiss on the exposed forehead. The odd eyebrows twitch and he chuckles under his breath, using his index tip to trace the furrows between them.

As he plans to get back out, an arm curls around his waist.

“Hey,” he says, his hand going back to pet the man. “Go sleep inside; your back will hurt.”

Taiga nods into Daiki’s stomach, pressing firmly into his abs. “Later.”

He lets his hand trail down Taiga’s neck, pressing firmly, half-massaging the muscles he finds there. Taiga reflexively jerks under the touch but remains in the pseudo embrace. “what’s up?”

“You…” He takes a huge breath of Daiki, lips moving against the cotton of his shirt, “Should stop teasing Tomo so much.”

Daiki clicks his tongue.

“I’m serious.” Taiga moves a little only to show sullen red eyes. “Daiki.”

“Fine, fine.”

“One fine is enough.”

“Fine~,” Daiki makes his fingers walk down Taiga’s impressively built back. “And? What’s really up?”

It takes more time for Taiga to reply. “Are you still angry?”

“I’m not really angry,” he pats Taiga’s back. “Even if the kids were around, who’s to say I would actually drink so much—”

“About me leaving.”

At this, Daiki stops short. Those red eyes are watching him again, and from his touch, the back is stiff in waiting. “I’m not angry,” he says simply.

Taiga pushes away, but his arm remains lightly coiled around Daiki’s waist. “Of course you are. You don’t even bring it up!”

Daiki grimaces. “Idiot, I know better than think you’re going to be stuck here for so long in one place, okay? Heck, I’m waiting to be uprooted myself one of these days, and it’s not going to be pleasant.”

Taiga frowns, considering. “So…why…I mean…” He does not complete his query because he does not know what to say. Sighing, Daiki turns his body, bringing his legs onto Taiga’s lap, watching the unimpressed tilt of the redhead’s mouth. “Oi.”

He chuckles, knocking their foreheads together, “It just came at the wrong time, your transfer.”

Pursing his lips, Taiga murmurs, “It won’t be for so long, you know? The kids’ winter break will be there soon, and you guys will be busy vacationing.”

The grimace returns, superficial as it was, “Don’t remind me! Those guys!” Then, softer, “It would have been nice if you could have been there, too.”

And the spasm in his chest made Taiga release a sound he could not categorise, embracing the other man tightly. “Hey!” Daiki choked out, but returned the hold, awkward in both position and emotion.

“You should say these things aloud more often,” Taiga confesses sagely, “That way, Tomo is points ahead of you.”

Daiki uses his knuckles to rap them against Taiga’s head. “Bastard, let me go! You’re Ardent Admirer is in the opposite house!”

Taiga leaned up, one arm releasing its hold on Daiki, cupping an annoyed gnashing jaw, eyes twinkling, “But my ardent lover is here, right?”

“Shut it,” Daiki tried to bring up the energy to spit out, but the words were eaten up by Taiga as he pulled Daiki under him on the sofa. The piece of furniture being so small made them forced to squeeze closer together, not that either of them complained. “If you stop,” Daiki moaned into this kiss, “I’m seriously thinking of burning your balls off.”

“Haha,” Taiga intoned, kissing down the sharp jaw to his neck, trailing wet kisses on his clavicle, one hand trying hard to unbutton his shirt, and the other bracing him as comfortable as possible. “You say that, but you won’t even be able to see after I’m done with you.”

Daiki bit the first part of Taiga’s body he could reach, getting the high curve of the man’s ear in his mouth. Taiga moaned against his skin, and his breath came out in a flutter at the sensation.

“See?” Taiga did not even bother looking up at him, “You’re already losing your breath. Soon,” successfully removing the shirt off Daiki’s chest, “You won’t have any oxygen reaching your brain, Dai~ki~.”

Daiki really hoped the man lived up to his promises because it would be a shame to bid farewell to a set of balls he would never play with.

 

* * *

 

 

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